"Maura? Are you in there?"
the air is thick and still and dark, like honey. i am drawing honey into my lungs, everything slow and sick-sweet and i feel so heavy, bound to the floor, i feel my limbs drowning in the honeyed air
"Jane? Is that you?"
my voice is slow and drowsy, my voice is the drone of bees, everything is the drone of bees and all i feel is the lazy pull of gravity, the immense weight of the atmosphere pushing me down, i tried to move but my fingertips could only grasp faintly at the air, it was so hard, it took so much effort, i am so tired, it is so calm and gauzy and soft and warm to lay here, to not move, to let myself be surrounded by the dense sweetness of honey, the drone of bees
"Maura?"
the voice tried to cut through the haze but i could not make my ears hear it. it is so tiring, so infinitely exhausting to turn my head, to force myself to respond, all i want is to stay here, cradled, loved, sinking down into the arms of this deep, dark, amber-colored emptiness
"Maura? I'm here, okay?"
honey, like bees, like bees drowning in honey
"Jane," she whispered, more breath than word.
a shadow passing over my face. a moon eclipsing the tiny sun made by the bare lightbulb. a known moon, a familiar phenomena, this waxing phase, this waning one
"Jane . . ."
"Maura," Jane breathed, her hands flying to Maura's face, her arms, pressing gently all over her body, feeling for wounds.
and then there was a woman in the moon and she touched me, she did, she caressed me and held me and her hands were made of honey and her voice was soft as a honeybee's hum, and then she was lifting me up through the heavy air and i slid up through the air and nothing was real
"Maura, I need you to be here with me right now, okay?"
"Jane," she whispered again.
"Maura, please."
the woman holding me was humming like a bee and it made me feel soft and happy, but the words she said began to coalesce and i was afraid
"I'm here," she managed, and she felt herself becoming that.
"Maura, what happened? Are you all right?"
i am all right, i am slow and perfect and calm and empty
"Drugged," she said, her tongue not responding, her speech slurred and indiscriminate.
"I can see that," Jane said, testing out a wry smile that vanished when she tried to lift Maura into an upright position, Maura's eyes sliding closed, her head lolling back. "Maura," she said again, her voice harder and more desperate. "Maura, please. I need to you to stay with me, okay? Do you know what he gave you?"
the woman was asking me such hard questions but her hands were so soft and warm, she was holding me close to her and it felt like love
"Opiate," Maura tried, rolling her head forward with tremendous effort. "Heroin, maybe. Or Fentanyl. Needles."
it was the first bee in the garden and it stung me and i was afraid but then the air turned to honey and i saw the face of god
"Oh God," Jane muttered. "Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here. Let's go, Maura, we've got to get out of here."
"Yes," Maura murmured.
take me away from here, from the thick sweetness of this long blank night where i could live forever if you would let me, if you do not want me i will stay here and here and here until the bees stop humming their droning songs, if you take me away from here it is love, your face is the moon and your hands are like sparrows and nothing is real, nothing is real except you holding me and me, slipping into your arms
"Come on," Jane said softly, touching Maura's cheek briefly. "Come on, you can do this, okay? It's not too far. I know you can do this. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"
he hurt me, he hurt me, but you are saving me, you are pulling me from the hollow core of the deep dark ground and lifting me up to the sky and this is love
"Not badly, I . . . don't think," Maura said, her words labored, her responses trailing far behind her body.
"There's blood in your hair," Jane said abruptly, her voice expressionless.
"There is?" Maura mumbled. "It doesn't hurt."
"Is it your blood? Maura!" Jane stopped when Maura's eyes slipped shut again. "Maura, please. Please, God, please stay here with me, okay? Just a little bit farther."
"Mm-hmm," Maura hummed.
bees drown in the honey when they cannot keep flying
"Where are you hurt?" Jane helped Maura sink to a sitting position on the edge of a crate. "Babe, where are you hurt?" Jane's hands fluttered over Maura's face and head, searching for the injury.
her hands in front of me, so bright red, there is no pain in me, i am incapable of hurt, the only thing i feel is the floor pulling me down, the only thing i feel is her hands, and this is love
"Oh God," Jane whispered after a moment. She pulled her hand away from the back of Maura's head, her fingers slick with blood. "No, no, no," she breathed, her voice raw, terrified. "Okay, Maura, time to go, come on."
"I'm tired," Maura said faintly. "Can we stop?"
"We can't stop, okay, we have to keep going. You're hurt, Maura, and it's . . . it's bad, okay? So we have to keep going. Frost and Korsak are right outside, we're almost there."
"Only you," Maura murmured.
the woman who lives in the moon was protecting me and her voice was the song of bees and her body is made of honey and little by little these things fade away; little by little the bees are returning to the hive and the world is sharper and colder and infinitely painful, i would go back to that place, i would throw myself back down into that deep deep sea, but she is keeping me safe, she is taking me away
"I know," Jane said, her voice flat. "Almost there. Do you see that light?"
it hurts me. this is pain rushing back in like a tidal wave. my head hurts. i want to drown in the honey, i cannot keep flying
"Yes," Maura said. "Is it far? My head hurts, Jane."
Jane said nothing, but her grip on Maura's waist tightened suddenly, the muscles in her jaw standing out in sharp relief as she tried to move faster toward the door.
"Jane," Maura mumbled.
"Yeah?"
"My head hurts."
"I—I know," Jane said. "I know it does, honey. We're gonna make you feel better, okay? Just a couple more steps."
"No," Maura gasped as the light in front of them swelled and swelled. "No, Jane, my head-"
there was nothing then. no bees and no honey. i was alone and it was dark but i was not afraid. i knew the world had ended and i was not afraid
Something was beeping.
Something was beeping and it wouldn't stop.
Something was beeping and it wouldn't stop and all she wanted in the world at that moment was for someone to come and make it stop.
She didn't want to open her eyes, which felt packed with sand, but she knew she couldn't make the beeping stop if she couldn't see where it was coming from. She tried clenching her jaw to steady herself for the task of moving her eyelids but the action sent hot bolts of pain screaming through her skull.
She moved her hand, something pinching at her skin. She had to open her eyes.
"Maura?"
It was her name, she was almost certain. The voice was familiar, she was almost certain.
"Maura, are you awake?"
She moved her hand again. Something pinched at her skin.
"It's okay, Maura, take it slow."
She groaned, she whimpered, she tried to open her eyes but the light was so bright and it made her wince.
"Maura?"
The voice was familiar, she was certain.
"Jane?" Her lips were dry, cracked, her mouth was dry, cracked, her voice was dry, cracked.
"Yeah," Jane said, "it's me." Maura could hear the words being pushed out in a rush of relief and she knew something very bad must have happened.
"What happened?"
There was a long silence shattered periodically by the beeping.
"What's that beeping?"
"You're in the hospital, Maura," Jane said finally. "You were . . . hurt."
"Oh," Maura said.
The beeping must be from a machine keeping her alive.
"What's that beeping?"
"They had to put you on a bunch of monitors and stuff, you look kinda like an alien," Jane said, and though Maura still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes she could hear Jane smiling, she could hear all the shades of pain in Jane's smile.
"Can you . . . can you open your eyes, Maura? Please?" The last word was a plea, was a whispered hope, was less a request than a controlled expression of fear.
she was holding me close to her and it felt like love
"Hurts," Maura mumbled.
"Okay," Jane whispered. "When you're ready."
She opened her eyes.
The light seared her brain for a moment but then subsided, ebbing away like tides.
Her head hurt. She moved her hand; something pinched at her skin. An IV needle.
it was the first bee in the garden and it stung me
"Maura?"
"Jane?" Maura blinked slowly.
"Yeah," Jane said softly, and her face gradually emerged from the dense glimmering fog shrouding Maura's vision. "It's me."
"Where am I?"
"You're still in the hospital."
"What happened?"
There was a long silence. There was no beeping. She could keep herself alive.
Even after they told her what had happened Maura was not sure what was real. Her skull cracked from the butt of the pistol. The tiny bruises on her forearm from the needles. The faint humming of bees in her ears.
Jane not leaving her side through hours and hours spent in a blank dreamless oblivion.
She felt it when the pinching in her hand started to burn, when they put something in the vein that made her want to scream but the pressure of the scream building in her throat made her head throb so she swallowed it back down.
She felt it when the pinching stopped, when they pulled the needle out, but her head still hurt and her eyes were still packed with sand.
"I'm thirsty," she said, and she felt it when the cool plastic was placed against her lips, the exertion of drawing water into her mouth making her weary.
"How are you other than that?" Jane asked, her caution designed to protect both of them.
"My head hurts."
"I'm not surprised," Jane said, and Maura could hear the tenderness of her smile. "That asshole cracked you good."
"Who is he?"
"He is—he was-" and Jane stopped.
Maura opened her eyes. Jane was there, next to her, eyes fixed on Maura's face though she saw the insurmountable distance of death in them.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Jane frowned. "Don't you dare be sorry," she said, her voice tight. "Don't you dare, please Maura, don't you dare. He was a killer. He almost killed you."
"How?" Maura did not understand what had happened. She watched Jane watching her, watched the emotions shift across Jane's face.
"Your memory," Jane said. Her eyes were suddenly liquid. Maura did not understand what was happening. She frowned and her head hurt.
"You were hurt very badly, Maura," Jane said quietly. "A man pistol-whipped you and you almost died."
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know." Jane's voice was rough. Maura could taste Jane's anguish like drops of honey on her tongue.
"Oh."
"The doctors said you might . . . you might have some short-term memory problems, maybe. For a little while."
Jane was clenching her jaw but the tears spilled onto her cheeks all the same.
"Don't cry, Jane," Maura said, though she was very tired and could feel the soft darkness of sleep starting to advance on her. "Please don't cry."
"Maura," Jane whispered. "You'll be okay."
"Okay," she sighed, closing her eyes.
"You'll be okay," Jane whispered again, or maybe it was an echo.
"I wasn't afraid," Maura said.
"Of what?" Jane leaned forward suddenly, startled by Maura's voice.
"Of dying."
Jane said nothing, but reached out and grasped Maura's hand, turning her face away.
"Because you were there with me," she said, trying to explain, but her words were still sometimes too far away to reach.
Jane squeezed her hand, then slid her fingers up Maura's wrist, her forearm, gently touching the spot where the first needle had gone in.
"That's not what I meant," she murmured.
"I know," Jane said, her voice thick.
her voice was the song of bees and her body is made of honey
Sometimes Maura still heard the bees buzzing faintly in her ears and she did not know if it was from the hurt to her head or the stings that frightened her until the air turned to honey and she saw the face of God.
"I'm glad I didn't die," Maura said, placing her own hand on Jane's. "I'm glad you didn't have to be there . . . for that."
"I've been there for almost that too many times," Jane mumbled and Maura could hear the tears on her face. "And so have you, so let's stop doing that, okay?" Maura smiled faintly.
"Okay."
"Do you remember anything?"
"Yes. Some."
"Do you-" Jane hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Maura closed her eyes, sighed. "Not really," she said. "Not now."
"Okay," and Maura could taste Jane's relief like drops of honey on her tongue.
"Thank you for saving me. Again," Maura said softly. "I don't know how to-"
"Shh," Jane interrupted gently. "I don't think I could really handle having this part of the conversation right now, you know? It's been a pretty heavy couple of days."
"It's only been a couple of days?"
"Well," Jane paused, swallowing hard, "nine days. It took five days to find you-" Jane's voice caught in her throat and Maura could hear the rage and sorrow choking her, like the low hum of bees. "And then it took you two days to wake up, and that was two days ago."
"Oh," Maura said. "I'm sorry to put you through that."
"You didn't put me through anything. And besides, I wouldn't have given up on you, Maura. Or left you once I found you," Jane said. "I won't."
Maura smiled. Her head didn't hurt as much.
then there was a woman in the moon and she touched me, she did, she caressed me and held me and her hands were made of honey and her voice was soft as a honeybee's hum, and then she was lifting me up through the heavy air and i slid up through the air and nothing was real
she was lifting me up and she was holding me close to her and she was saving me and this is love