Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. I do read them all, and I'm glad that I can write something you're interested in. Thank you so much.
Maura takes a breath as the elevator rides up to the floor where Jane is at. She had spoken to her, actually talked to her, and without the hatred she had shown her before. The blonde's nerves are like livewires. She takes a moment to calm herself as the doors open. Frost is the first to lay eyes on her, followed immediately by Korsak's. This is her chance; her chance to try and talk to her best friend. Her shoes don't click against the floor as they used to. The sneakers make a minute squeaking noise instead, which doesn't alert the detective to her presence yet. As she approaches the raven's desk, she sees in Frost's eyes that Maura is there. It's obvious. Jane isn't sure why the blonde is there, except perhaps to deliver more news on the body. The detective can feel the tension build a bridge between them as the doctor speaks.
"Um, Jane, would you… like to go get coffee?" Her voice is soft against the background chatter that almost envelopes her words completely. Mocha eyes cut to her as the body follows suit, standing erect in a matter of seconds and towering over the blonde.
"Things aren't just going to go back to normal at the snap of your delicate fingers, doctor," Jane exclaims. "You stopped calling. You didn't even send an email." Her voice is seeping with anger. "Do you know what that feels like? To lose your best friend? For them to fall off the face of the earth?"
"I missed you, Jane, and I wanted so badly to talk to you again. There's a reason-"
"Sure there's a reason. Sure. Whatever. I knew then, and I know now. Ian's more important than I ever was. I see that clearly enough." Jane's hands are on her hips, glare shifting from her former friend to random objects around the room. Frost and Korsak exchange looks of disbelief. They can hardly believe how Jane is tearing into Maura. "Where's Ian now, Dr. Isles? I guess your judgment was pretty poor."
"Don't blame me for who you are now. I can see you doing it," she states, fists forming at her sides, "You've built these walls around yourself. You don't let anything in or out. You're like a statue, stuck in a perpetual stance, monotonous, going through your days on autopilot." She pauses, taking a breath to bring her voice back down to a normal volume, but starting again as she sees Jane moving to defend herself. "You don't care about anyone but yourself anymore, and you have no ideaof the things that have happened outside of your own problems. You have no idea." Maura bites back the tears that are stinging at her eyes, ready to spill over, but she turns around, escorting herself out of the room and back to the elevator. Her mind shifts to the first comment Jane made about her upon her return.
"What happened to your fancy clothes?"
The doctor doesn't allow Jane to see the tears, clicking the button to go downstairs once inside the elevator, letting her hair hide her eyes. The detective doesn't deserve a sense of victory over her, not this time. She wipes away the tears after the doors close, pulling the last of her strength to stop them and keep her dignity as she walks home.
My fancy clothes, Jane? They've all gone. I'm not the same person I was. As it's apparent you aren't either. I know I left you. I know I dropped off the face of the earth. I know I stopped calling. I know all these things and more. I know so much more. I can't ask you to forgive me. I can't because I know you won't. You're too wounded, too broken now. The Jane I knew had walls, yes, but not a barricade. And I may have been the only one to have gone past all of those walls. You've changed so much, Jane, and I know it's my fault, at least somewhat. If I could do anything, anything at all to go back, to fix my mistakes, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat. There's nothing I can do. Nothing.
She steps out of the elevator and walks home. It's all she can do not to break, right there. Jane could be watching her, but she doesn't care. She's not going to fall apart. That would only give the raven satisfaction in their argument. Maura unlocks her door and walks inside. Her fingers graze against the wood as it pushes to a close. Her forehead rests on its surface as her resolve dissolves under her tears.