Author's Note: I apologize for the long time between updates but as I stated in my AN in "To The Moon & Back", I'm still here and I've just had a boatload of shit falling on me in my life. Special thanks to Lauren for always encouraging me. This chapter is dedicated to you, friend. (: I know this chapter is a little shorter than my previous ones, but hey, it's an update. I'm going to try and be more diligant at updating quicker. Thank you to those who have stuck around! I hope you enjoy. Much love~
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own personal characters and the SL.
Chapter Eight
It hurt to look at her. It hurt like… like when you came home from your first real job and there was a knot in your shoulder blade; you were too tired to shoo your ma away when she made you take your shirt off and turned you around to rub icy hot onto your shoulders and massage the knot out. It caused a burning sensation that made your body tense and your jaw clench as it spread throughout your shoulders and you wanted to pull away but you didn't, because it hurt in a good way.
It hurts in a good way when you look at her. The pain hurts good. You don't feel it when she laughs at your lame jokes though, or when you both sit on her bed in her room and she reads to you out of her big book of anatomy and you're only half listening because you're too busy counting the freckles that kiss her face and for a fleeting moment you wish you could kiss her too.
You want to cup her face and kiss her, know what her lips feel like against your own. She makes you want to be a better person; she makes you want to live.
It used to be when you imagined dying, you imagined yourself finally at peace, and finally nothing would hurt. Now, it scares you.
It scares you because then you'd never be able to see her smile or hear her laugh. You'd never be able to be so close to her that you could smell her shampoo. You wouldn't be near her and that thought alone is worse than death, you think.
You think she is worth the pain and the struggle to get better. You tell her one day when you're both sitting in her bed and she's reading to you.
"You make me wanna live." You blurt it out in between sentences and she sucks in a breath but doesn't let it out, doesn't lift her head. And then you panic because you think maybe you've said the wrong thing.
But then she lifts her head and there are tears in her eyes and the only reason you don't panic more is because she is smiling. She is smiling at you so big that you feel that pain in your heart, like someone is fixing the kink in it, like it's slowly being put back together.
She bites her lip and shakily wipes away her tears, closing the book slowly and setting it aside. She scoots closer to you so that you're sitting side by side, your arm touching hers and for the first time in a while you wish you weren't wearing a sweatshirt so you could feel her arm brush against yours.
"Maura," You murmur quietly.
"Yes, Jane?"
You turn your head to see that she is studying your features. "I…" Instead of continuing, you stand up and for a moment, Maura looks confused. You feel her eyes on you as you take a steadying breath and lift the sweatshirt up and off of you. This is you opening yourself up more to her. You are left in your jeans and a faded gray band t-shirt.
It takes a moment but recognition flitters across Maura's face as you drop your red, oversized sweatshirt onto her bed. You don't want to hide from her anymore. You crave the affection and friendship of someone. You're so tired, so tired of being alone and keeping everyone at arm's length.
When her eyes slowly move down your bare arms, she does not gasp and though you feel anxious under her gaze, the urge to hide isn't as strong as it normally is. She holds out her hands wordlessly and after a moment, you place the backs of your hands gently in hers.
By now your sutures have been removed and the newer cuts have healed and scarred. Pink lines crisscross each other, white, faded lines go neatly across. The ones near your wrists are angry red and slightly raised. Those are where the sutures were.
You don't flinch as her fingers trail slowly over each scar, as if committing them to her memory. After a moment, she meets your gaze and the look in her eyes is one of acceptance. There is no pity, no judgment, it's just… Maura. Her hands slowly slide up your arms and she stands up to envelop you in a hug.
It surprises you because you know Maura isn't one to really initiate physical contact but after a moment, your arms wrap around her and you revel in the way she fits perfectly against you, the way her head tucks gently under your chin. She's soft and warm and again your heart feels as though it's being slowly pieced back together.
"Do they hurt?" She asks quietly against you before pulling back.
You watch her as she sits back down on the bed and you move to sit beside her, smiling to yourself as your arm brushes up against hers. "Sometimes when I think too much, the newer ones, they ache." You reply honestly, because there is no reason to hide from her. This is the first time in a while that you have felt safe enough to be yourself.
Maura nods as she glanced up at you, studying your profile. You turn your head to meet her gaze and suddenly her hand is in your own, her fingers lacing themselves with your own and your heart flutters in your chest. You feel your lips creasing into an involuntary smile as you look at her and it only gets bigger when you note the flush on her cheeks and the way she looks down and then back up at you through a bashful, hooded gaze.
"I have a lot of panic attacks… Or, I had them." Maura suddenly speaks, and you can see her throat bob up and down with a thick swallow. "I've never done well in crowds or social situations and I know you know most of this. I tend to overthink and overanalyze everything and then suddenly I can't breathe and the room spins." She shakes her head as if ashamed of herself. "I don't function like I normal human being." Her voice shakes and your hand squeezes hers gently.
Maura gives you a small, but thoughtful smile before she continues. "But with you, I'm not so scared." Though her voice is quiet, she seems to breathe a little easier. "Everything that always seemed to frighten me, everything that I was never sure how to react to, all the social cues… They all just disappear when I'm with you. Nothing feels forced and I don't feel like I'm going to faint. You just…" She trails off, unable to articulate what she's feeling. "I'm better when I'm with you." She finally says, bringing her gaze back up to yours.
You smile at her, nodding softly. You understand because that's what you feel when you're with her. "I'm better when I'm with you too." You admit, releasing her hand and instead, bringing your arm up and wrapping it around her shoulders. She doesn't stiffen or shrink away from the contact which still surprises the both of you. Instead, she scoots closer and tucks her head under your chin. Your heart stutters in your chest and you have to tell yourself to remember to breathe.
Swallowing the small knot in your throat, you speak once more. "Maybe…Maybe we can be each other's reason for living, instead of just surviving." Your voice is gruff and a little shy. You wait with bated breath for her to speak, hoping your words hadn't scared her off.
Your chest aches from not breathing and only when you feel her arms wrap around your slender waist do you breathe easier. Her voice is shy as she finally replies. "Okay, Jane." You resist the urge to kiss the top of her head and instead let your cheek rest gently on top of soft, honey blonde hair, inhaling her scent and closing your eyes.
"You're the first best friend I've ever had, Jane. You're just… you're so wonderful." Maura says and you have to repress a shiver as her breath tickles the skin around your clavicle.
But your heart clenches in your chest. You're just her friend. Well, not just her friend, her best friend. You shut your eyes and ignore the sudden rush of sadness that engulfs you before berating yourself silently. You should only be so lucky to be Maura Isles' friend. Your voice croaks slightly as you finally muster up the will to reply. "Yeah. You're my best friend too, Maura." You'd take that over anything else, though; anything to have her in your life, because she makes you feel. She makes you feel something other than the pain; she makes you want to be better.
So, you'll take whatever you can get, whatever she decides to allow. You'll cherish it with everything you have because you're certain you'll never meet someone like her again. You're certain that if you were to lose her, you'd surely break into something that would be beyond repair.
Slowly, you lay back with her in your arms. The hurt you felt moments ago, leaves and warmth replaces it as Maura tucks herself against your side and you're sure there's nothing else in the world that feels quite as perfect as this. Maura has slowly started to fill the dark places in your heart with light. Her smile is like the sun, filling every crevice inside you and her laugh combined is like growing flowers inside your ribs, their vines intertwining themselves between your bones.
She is everything that is good in this world, of that you are sure.