Nothing to win

and

Nothing left to lose

Maura felt her eyes lock into a dizzying pattern as she sat in the backseat of her taxi, keyed up and overtired, shifting from her phone to her watch to the clock on the dashboard and back again until her head spun and her patience danced on the edge. She had never quite understood the phrase "internally screaming" prior to this day, which unsurprising as most cultural nuances and slang and pop culture references were often lost on her, but now Maura could say with certainty that she was in fact closely acquainted with the phenomenon.

It was as if the universe wasn't content with all of the other disasters it had thrown at Maura and Jane over the past two months, Maura thought as she willed the cab forward. Naturally, every sort of travel inconvenience in existence had to make itself known on her return trip. She'd known she was racing against the clock getting out of Brazil; she'd somehow managed to have a much easier time of it on her flight down when she wanted a quick exit, but now that she wanted a quick return, it had been infinitely more complicated. Maura had been forced to book a three stop, nearly 24 hour flight that carried the single benefit of getting her to her home the night before the funeral. She anticipated that it would be late and that she would be overwhelmed and tired and completely overwrought about the following morning, but that she'd sleep in her own bed and shower in her own bathroom and somehow fix herself up to look presentable before it all unfolded. That had been the goal.

Reality had been a hard smack in the face. Of course getting through three stops without some sort of a snafu would have been some sort of record, and like everything else in Maura's life lately, she had fallen short. So after a great deal of anxiety, stress, and outright panic across two continents, five total airports, three planes, and numerous bathrooms and chairs and even patches of airport floor, accompanied by very little in the way of sleep or preparation or any sort of quiet rest or rejuvenation, Maura now found herself in the back of a cab, hurling from Logan toward Boston Cambridge University at nine fifteen in the morning and praying that she'd make the memorial mass at ten.

Frost had been the unsung hero in this whole debacle. He'd answered her calls and texts at all hours as she dealt with delays and scheduling changes across multiple cities. Given the tight schedule, it had become impossible for him to actually come and get her, as originally planned, but he reassured her repeatedly that he'd meet her cab at BCU, throw her luggage in his car, and get her inside. Although to be fair, he hadn't really offered the last part in so many words, but Maura could read between the lines and take a stab at what was hovering in the air. Jane was waiting and Maura was coming, and both of them were in such similar states of panic and angst and desperation and nerves that Frost clearly saw it necessary to literally collect Maura from the sidewalk and usher her inside, to actually facilitate the process of putting her and Jane under one roof for the first time in the two months. And what needed to happen next was going to come down to her and Jane.

Maura smoothed her black dress nervously as the University drew closer. Apparently, given the attention and the circumstances surrounding Detective Enders' death, her alma mater had offered their gymnasium on campus to host the memorial mass. It wasn't uncommon for the University to hold such major events in the space, as Maura had attended enough of them as a student and later as an alumna, but Maura never imagined that this piece of her past would somehow wind up as the setting for an event that she'd come to see as something that could quite possibly drive her future. She also thanked whatever god or forces were listening that she'd had the foresight to pack an appropriate outfit in her carry on in the unlikely event of what exactly had ended up happening, so that she could manage to dress herself properly during her final layover and hit the ground running in Boston.

So here she was, ready or not. Black dress, black heels, light makeup, loose hair in her usual soft waves. Purse, luggage, internal baggage that far outweighed her physical possessions. Sunglasses to hide her tired eyes. Lipstick to try to smooth the tension apparent in her lips and across her face. And Jane's name and her face and the sound of her voice and the touch of her hands beating through her heart and running through her mind and dancing on her very soul. I'm coming, Jane. Please hold on. I'm coming.

Her cab made it to the University with twenty minutes to spare, bringing her to the parking garage next door as Frost had instructed. He was as good as his word and eased her bags carefully into the trunk of his department car before putting a hand on her back and guiding her into the lobby outside the enormous gymnasium. Maura could see that the gymnasium that she remembered so well from past visits here had been filled with countless chairs in neat rows with a dais erected on the far wall, and there were officers and plain-clothed professionals and what were clearly family and friends and probably every person that Jillian Enders held dear filling the room, taking seats or lining the walls or standing to talk in the aisles before the ceremony was to begin.

Jane was in that room. Maura felt her entire body register the statement as it flooded through her and she couldn't tell if she felt relieved or overcome with nerves. What if she messed this up? What if she said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, expected too much, too little? Jane had become her barometer of sorts in situations like these in the past, but that offered little now that it was Jane that she needed help reading and navigating and interpreting. Frost had been moving with her carefully but purposefully toward the entrances from the lobby into the gymnasium, when Maura suddenly felt as if her heart and feet had seized.

Frost looked at her quizzically as she slowed, the two of them not quite at the doors. "Maura? You okay?"

Maura could barely speak, her voice coming out in a strangled whisper. "I...I. I don't think I've ever been so scared," she admitted, slowing down to as much of a crawl as she dared given the crowd of people around her and the minutes counting down until the start of the service.

Frost's hand on her back was reassuring. "I promise you, it's going to be okay. Anything has to be better than what you've already been through, right?" He nodded at Maura gently as she glanced at him before looking away shyly. "And for what it's worth...Jane's scared, too. But if you tell her I told you that, I'll deny it until my dying day. Your girl could still kick my ass from here to Brazil."

Maura let herself smile a little, the tension broken. "Thank you," she breathed, giving Frost an earnest look before stepping forward, moving carefully ahead of him toward the doors, toward Jane, She could feel Frost watching her move ahead just as she scanned the room, looking for Jane and already feeling as if Jane somehow was watching her too.

And there she was. Standing about halfway up the room, leaning on the left-side wall with Frankie beside her. Oh, Jane. She was thin, too thin, in her black suit and heels, sharply professional in her "court clothes", as Korsak called them, her black pencil skirt and blazer and crisp white blouse and pumps, with her curly hair loose around her shoulders. And just as she had suspected, Jane had been watching her too. She moved slowly to the end of the aisle down from where Jane and Frankie stood, conscious of the other people moving around her and keeping her eyes fully on Jane, taking in her nervous eyes, the apprehension she carried, and the pain she felt, all so apparent to Maura even from so far away. And before she could fully comprehend what was happening, Jane had eased herself off the wall away from Frankie and was moving toward her, running, no, hurling herself down the aisle in Maura's direction.

Here we go. A part of Maura's mind was scanning the crowd around them, happy that there were so many people and so much going on that no one seemed to be watching or caring about the drama unfolding in the side aisle. A larger part of Maura didn't care, didn't think, didn't register anything except the increase in her own pace, her own hurried steps forward toward the dark haired woman heading straight for her, an inscrutable look on her face that Maura realized with each step closer was heartbreak and joy and relief and tension and love and desperation all at once.

And in an instant, Maura got everything she had ever wanted over all those months of silent suffering, of separation, of ongoing pain, of utter heartbreak. For as suddenly as Maura had seen Jane move toward her and felt her own feet move forward in a desperate stride, Jane was suddenly right there in front of her and there suddenly was no space left between them now. Maura couldn't say who, if either of them, acted first, but suddenly all she felt and registered were Jane's arms wrapped as tightly around her as hers were around Jane. And Maura clung to Jane desperately, weeks and weeks of a myriad of emotions pouring out through her embrace, just as Jane clung desperately back to her.

Maura had never felt such an outpouring of relief. Even all the tears that she had cried and prayers she had offered were no comparison to the watershed that she felt released as she stood encircled in Jane's arms. And she kept her arms firmly around Jane, holding her up just as Jane seemed to be for her, because somehow, deep inside, Maura knew that this couldn't be about her holding Jane or Jane holding her, one of them leading while the other followed, the strong one and the delicate flower, the stoic one and the suffering sidekick. Because just as the catalyst to this awful turn of events was both of their crosses to bear, this reunion, this relief had to be equally given and accepted, a joint offering, a collaboration, a compromise. Maura realized now as she and Jane stood locked on the most equal footing that they'd had in months that each of them had represented all of the things, all of the sides, in this dance that had torn them apart. Jane had been strong and delicate, stoic and suffering, the one who hurt and the one who did the hurting, and so had she. The weapons that they'd used had differed, as had their methods of coping, but in the end, they'd both lit the match and stoked the fire and both had been completely, helplessly burned.

But not beyond repair, it seemed. Because as things seemed to settle all around them as somber music began to play and people found their seats, Jane pulled back to look at Maura, actually and fully looking at her in a way that seemed to gaze directly into her soul. And Maura could only stare unflinchingly back, just as she had begged for and hoped for all of those weeks, hoping that her eyes could begin the conversation that waited for them later. I'm here. I came back. I will never leave you again. I've worried for you. I missed you so deeply. I am so truly sorry. And I love you. I love you. And Maura could see through Jane's eyes, the soft brown eyes she'd longed to look into for so long, everything that she hoped was reflected in her own. It was there. It was there and hovering, waiting for this particular hell to run its course so that they could start the long path to rebuild.

Maura was surprised to see the moisture flood Jane's eyes and start to dampen her cheeks as the tears gently ran unchecked. It was all the evidence she needed that this would not be a one-sided conversation, that both of them had given as good as they had got. And again the guilt flooded through her even as her own feelings - the flash of betrayal, the spark of heartbreak, and ache of want and need and longing - again rose inside of her. But now was not the time. She reached softly for Jane's hand, needing to take the first step, to extend the first olive branch, and sighed with obvious relief as she felt Jane's fingers entwine with hers, accepting her offering. And then she accepted Jane's in return as Jane began to lead them in the direction from which she'd run, toward Frankie and the seats that he had saved, as Frost came up the aisle behind them and the mourners rose to begin the service.

-R-I-

Jane had to keep reminding herself that this was indeed real life and yes, it was all actually happening. That the casket ahead of them did in fact contain the body of a colleague, someone she considered to be a friend and had watched the life drain out from right in front of her. That Maura wasn't a hallucination or a pleasant dream or a figment of her imaginary. That she was here - actually here - and sitting beside her in a standard uncomfortable folding chair that seemed to exist by the thousands at these sort of events. She felt selfish sitting through this service, this awful, gut-wrenching, grief-stricken event, and wishing that it could all be over so that she could focus on the woman beside her. Jane wasn't yet sure as to what that would entail - talking? Screaming? Breaking each other's hearts in person rather than continents apart? Only time would tell.

Jane's expectations were basement-level at this point. If this whole thing could be over and she could just have a few moments to look at Maura, really look at her and study her and worry over her thin frame and troubled eyes and serious face and reacquaint herself with the loveliness and familiarity of the woman that she loved deeply but hadn't laid eyes on in months, Jane thought she'd be okay. At least if that was compared to the walking disaster she'd been before. And if she got to do anything else - hold her hand or touch her hair, or God, even get to hug her again - Jane would consider that a bonus like she'd never imagined.

Jane couldn't have said, even minutes before, how she planned to greet Maura when the time came. Would she smile? Would she say hello? Who would talk first? Hello seemed damn inadequate after everything that had happened, but how are you seemed infinitely worse. Would she reach out to offer a hug or a kiss on the cheek? Would Maura appreciate that? Was a handshake too cold or a pat on the arm too awkward? Jane had worried about these things deep into the night and had woken up still with no sense of what to do. But it turned out that she needn't have worried. Her body seemed to know what her mind and her heart needed even if they both had been sluggish disappointments to her as of late. And she must have done something right, because Maura had hugged her with enough force and intensity that Jane had been moved almost instantly to tears. She'd harbored a secret fear that even with Maura back among them, she'd somehow still end up alone. But all it took was Maura's arms around her for her to realize that she'd never been alone after all, not in the hurt or the grief or the pain or the suffering. Or, apparently, in the hope that thing could get better, that they could begin again.

The service moved at a decent pace, unbearable not because of time or droning on or a lack of brevity, but because of the complete loss conveyed through even the most thoughtful of gestures toward the family, toward the deceased. Jane was cheered slightly by Maura's presence in the chair beside her and took some comfort in knowing that even having Maura in her peripheral vision, close enough to touch, was a gift even as she struggled with the concept of touch. What if she scared her away?

As always, Maura seemed to somehow read her mind, or maybe it was that Maura was stuck in the same dilemma but more confident in her approach. She touched Jane's knee tentatively during the first reading and didn't seem the least bit bothered when Jane had put her hand on top of Maura's, anchoring it to her. So when they stood for the gospel, Jane tried a little bravery of her own, letting her pinky stroke against Maura's hand as they stood side by side, with Maura turning her palm toward Jane, an invitation that Jane took without question. During the sign of the peace, Jane had hugged Maura again, quicker this time, her arms just around Maura's shoulders but at Maura's soft squeeze of her waist, she'd dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head and held her an extra second before turning to hug her brother. And during the eulogy, given by Jillian's younger sister who had started crying nearly the second she started speaking, Maura seemed to let go of all pretenses and worries and held Jane's hand, obviously, completely, unabashedly, in both of hers, their knees angles together and their bodies huddled together as if praying somehow. And maybe they were.

Blessedly, it was all over after that. The crowd dispersed as Frankie greeted Maura gently and companionably, as Frost chanced a hand on Jane's back and offered a reassuring look when she'd caught his eye. She'd survived this somehow. Jane had had several moments over the past few days when that had seemed unfathomable, that she'd have enough left in her to survive this service and Maura's homecoming all in one shot. Jane knew that there was still a long road ahead, but somehow felt like they'd at least come out on the other side. That the dawn had broken and the sun was rising and now she and Maura just had to see it through, push and work and do the hard things until the sun was all the way back up in the sky.

"Maura's bags are in my car," Frost was saying as Jane shook herself out of her thoughts, still conscious of the reassuring warmth of Maura standing right beside her. "So I'll take Maura back home."

"I can drop you off, Jane," Frankie offered. "I've got nowhere to be." Jane felt appreciative then, for her brother and her meddling family. Even now, after all of the crap she'd put them through, Frankie was still trying to protect her, offering her a life vest if she needed one.

Jane was still trying to formulate some sort of response, a thankful decline to Frankie that wasn't a complete presumption that she'd be welcome in Maura's home, but still an offer nonetheless, when Maura spoke up a bit shyly. "Maybe you could ride with us," she offered as she looked uncertainly at Jane and back to Frost. "You're on the way, I mean, if you want to go home, or if you don't…" Maura trailed off, looking flustered but determined to press on.

Jane jumped in instead. "I don't. I don't want to go home, I mean. I don't think I could be alone right now." She hadn't meant it or said it accusingly, but she saw the flash in Maura's eyes all the same and cringed. Was this what was in store for them now? Tripping over words and quick apologies and careful sidestepping? She opened her mouth to try to fix it without making it worse.

But Maura surprised her. "I can understand that," she said, softly but directly, meeting Jane's eyes. "I'd like to not be alone either. I've spent a lot of time alone and it...hasn't been very good for me."

Frankie snorted and Frost looked amused, and Jane shut her mouth to glare at the pair of them in response. "It hasn't been good for Jane either," Frankie said, not unkindly, and Jane was relieved to see the humor diffusing the seriousness of the conversation. "Neither of you have to be alone now. Which is a relief, let me tell you. So Frost, you got these two? Cause I'm out."

Frost nodded and began to walk ahead with Frankie as Maura and Jane took up the rear, some of the awkwardness starting to once again set in. Jane felt a slight wave of apprehension as to what she was in for. "Gosh, I'm tired," she commented lamely, trying for at least something to say. "But that probably doesn't even compare to how you're feeling."

Maura turned her head to offer Jane a small smile and an unexpected burst of truth. "I actually think that I'm feeling a lot better than I have in a long time," she admitted, letting her hand brush Jane's gently as they walked through the lobby and into the morning air. "But I think that a nap would help me considerably. How about you?"

Jane actually felt like she could sleep, truly sleep, for the first time in months. "That sounds amazing." She grabbed Maura's fingers as they brushed her again, squeezing lightly and resisting the urge to smile broadly as Maura wrapped her hand more fully in hers.

Maura looked a bit uncertain for a moment, but before Jane could register her own trepidation or ask after Maura's, she had pressed bravely onward. "There are sheets on the guest bed," she offered a bit shyly. "And the couch is comfortable. But my bed...that's where I've always taken the best naps. So...if you want, you could…"

Jane pulled Maura to her, letting go of her hand quickly to thread her arm through hers before taking her hand once more. "I'd like that," she said softly. "I'd like that a lot." It was a start. They'd walked through fire and loss and grief and pain and desperation and destruction and separation toward each other once more, with neither one emerging as the victor and now with both having nothing left to possibly lose. But perhaps with everything to gain. And somehow, at some point, they would begin again.

A/N: I hope that I'm making some people happy today. I know it's been an angsty road. Clearly the next chapter is going to be a ride since there's quite a lot of baggage to sort through here, but remember, our biggest hurdle has been overcome! A funeral is no place for an angst-filled, bare it all sort of conversation, but that conversation is coming and it's not going to be batted away because of some sweet hand holding and welcome home hugs. But you can rest assured that our girls have indeed made it to the other side (and back to the same hemisphere so win!). Thank you all.