Chapter 6

It had become something of a habit for Jane to conjure up images of Maura on her journey. They came in quick flashes, fragmented and heartbreaking - the perfection of her smile, the stroke of a hand, the melody of her laughter - bits and pieces that did little to fill the hole in Jane's heart.

Only in dreams did she find Maura complete, her presence tender and fulfilling.

Jane lost track of how many times the sun rose and set, sacrificing sleep for safety, travelling in the shadows. The dreams came to her less and less and she feared what it meant; feared that her memories would fade away forever, swallowed up by a world she didn't recognize; a world that was doing its damndest to make sure there was room for little else other than survival. It cornered her at every turn, collapsing in on her from all sides until Jane, hungry and desperate and wild, lashed out to escape from its clutches.

Jane made her choices and never looked back. Life, or whatever semblance was left of it, would be her reward and she soldiered on. A deadly woman in a deadly world.

After that her dreams no longer brought her peace. Maura would come to her, beautiful and glowing. She would take Jane's hand and walk with her. Tell her that she loved her.

Jane eventually woke from those bittersweet paradises, hot tears on her face, and knew deep down that she could not have them. Not anymore.

Maybe that was her penance.

Even so, she wished to dream every night.

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She watched Maura with a quiet curiosity as the other woman flipped the pages on a metal clipboard. Jane could tell that she was double-checking something or other, probably for the third time. Same old Maura. Her pen glided along the paper leaving a flawless, looping script in its wake. It hitched briefly upon reaching the "Name" line and then continued along its course.

It was so strange and beautiful to lay eyes on her again. Jane would have been happy to sit there for hours, taking in everything that was different, everything that was the same.

Her golden hair was swept back neatly in a ponytail, a few strands had come loose and fell over her cheeks in soft whisps. Her skin was flawless even without the cosmetics. Maura looked younger and less assuming. Approachable. Still ridiculously attractive, just in a simpler way.

Damn. Jane smiled inwardly to herself.

Only Maura could come out on the other side of a zombie apocalypse looking better than before.

In the past, Jane had been tempted to tell her friend that she didn't need the expensive make-up or the fancy designer clothes or all that other crap. In her opinion, it just got in the way of the stuff that really mattered. When she realized it sounded a lot like she just wanted to see Maura naked, she decided to keep the compliment to herself.

Lost in her observations, it startled her when Maura grabbed at the thin plastic curtain and pulled it around them. The ball-bearings scraped along the track making the hairs on Jane's arms stand on end. She had been looking forward to the moment when they could finally have some time to themselves.

Unfortunately, Maura had been administering some wicked silent treatment since the mess with Garrett. Jane could never stand it when she was upset with her.

"Come on. Don't be mad," Jane said sincerely, stopping just short of offering an apology.

The small detail was not lost on Maura. Details, after all, were her specialty.

"Look at me." Maura said, ignoring her as she passed a tiny flashlight over Jane's eyes. Her anger softened into concern, and she touched Jane's chin with her fingertips, the gentle pressure coaxing her to turn her face. "How did you get this? The cut on your temple."

Oh that. "I fell," Jane said.

"Is that all you want to tell me?"

"I fell on a rock. I think…"

Jane could be this way sometimes - purposefully obtuse, maddeningly vague. For now, Maura chose to let her have her way.

"This needs stitches," she sighed. "Did you lose consciousness when you 'fell on your rock'?"

"Maybe. I don't remember..." That kind of answered the question when she thought about it.

"I'm serious, Jane," she said frustrated. "You probably have a concussion."

"'Probably'? Are you guessing now, Dr. Isles?" Jane teased, knowing exactly which buttons to push.

"Yes, I am," she stated, not the least bit ashamed. "Unlike the deceased, the living have a tendency to either not reveal the extent of their symptoms or to lie about them." She carefully began cleaning the perimeter of Jane's wound with antiseptic and continued, "So I couple my observations with what may or may not be reliable information from my patients. I'm forced to guess all the time now. It's baffling really," and then she locked eyes with Jane. "Care to give me any insight as to why a patient might do that? Don't they want my help?"

The question stung more than the alcohol seeping its way into her cut. The honest answer was that she didn't know what she wanted anymore. Accepting Maura's help meant burdening her as well.

Maura didn't deserve that.

"Jane?" she asked. "Where did you go?"

Jane shifted her gaze and shook her head dismissively.

"It's nothing."

A flicker of resignation passed over Jane's face, so fast that most people wouldn't recognize it. Maura wasn't sure of what, but something had changed. This Jane, solemn and introspective, was so dichotomous to the one from moments ago; the one who nearly assaulted another human being for merely existing.

She stared at the tired brown eyes that would not look back at her, knowing there was only one reason Jane would keep secrets from her.

Jane stubbornly wanted to protect her. Same old Jane.

Maura couldn't keep her heart from swelling in its cage. A distant part of her knew it was unwise, that it could all end horribly again, but she was powerless to stop it. She'd loved Jane for so long she could hardly remember feeling any other way. She wasn't sure that there was another way to feel about Jane.

Even in death, Maura had never stopped loving her.

She placed a tentative hand over Jane's heart, a heart she knew better than her own, and allowed it to linger there before gently pressing on her chest.

"Lie back," she instructed. Jane did as told and Maura reached for the small medical tray, rolling it to her side. "I need to flush out the cut and then I'll stitch you up, ok?"

"Okay," she replied, sensing a shift and letting Maura take care of her. "Think I'll have a cool scar?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it." The first hint of forgiveness played at the corner of Maura's mouth.

"That's too bad. Chicks dig scars," she smirked.

"Ahh, so that's what you've been up to."

"I've had a lot of free time."

Maura shook her head, her mouth crooked as if she were holding in a smile.

"After sustaining your injury, did you think the best remedy was to rub mud and debris into the wound?" She had been applying a steady stream of water to the cut for several minutes. "Goodness, Jane."

"So that's why it feels so funny..."

Maura leaned in closer, scrutinizing her progress. "I know what you're trying to do and it won't work."

"I know not of that which you speak of," Jane said haughtily and grinned at Maura's visible disdain for her poor grammar.

"Well, now I am definitely sure you are suffering from a concussion," she said easily.

"You can't stay mad at me forever."

"No. No, apparently I can't." She smiled and Jane grinned in return.

After another inspection she must have been satisfied because she set the squirt bottle down and picked up a hypodermic needle and glass vial.

"I don't want any of that," Jane said warily.

"You don't want a local anesthetic?" She said slowly, eyebrows raised.

Jane shook her head, eyeing the bottle and syringe with trepidation.

"I highly recommend that you not bypass this step," she advised, but Jane just blinked at her. "It will be painful," she emphasized, her brow knitted with concern.

"I'll be fine," she assured. "I don't want my face to be half numb. Saggy half-face is not a look I'm going for."

"But Jane-"

"I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, Maura set the items in her hands back down on the tray. She turned to Jane as if to protest, then closed her mouth and went to grab the suture kit, then stopped and turned back to Jane, then stopped again and sighed. She was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

It was the most adorable thing Jane had ever seen.

"Hey, stop thinking so much. I know it's lot to ask from you," she said and Maura gave a little eye-roll. "I can handle it."

"Okay. Okay fine," she repeated, more to convince herself than Jane. She tore open the suture kit and soon had the tiny, hooked needle positioned in a set of surgical tweezers. She leaned forward, her face close to Jane's. "Please stay very very still."

Maura settled herself and was deftly efficient in her work. The needle bit into Jane's skin over and over and she barely registered the sensation. If pain could be quantified, this was just a drop in the bucket.

Maura's hands were delicate and small and deceptively steady. There was never a wasted movement. Once upon a time, the two had joked about taking a go at the shooting range, and Jane knew her friend would be a quick study simply because of those hands.

Jane regretted never taking her. She regretted a lot of things.

She stared openly at Maura's face, going over every line and curve until her gaze drifted down to Maura's neck. She immediately noticed the one inch scar under her ear, just below her jawline. Jane frowned and before she knew what she was doing, brought her finger up to trace it.

"What happened?"

Maura's eyelids fluttered almost imperceptibly at the touch but she never stopped tying off stitches. They'd lost so much time. Anything could have happened.

"Did someone hurt you?" She asked and lifted her head to get a closer look. The scar on her own neck, the ones in her hands, all began to tingle.

"Jane, don't move," she chastised and then tied off the last suture. "No one hurt me." She finished up, wiping the area with gauze and asked again, "Did someone hurt you?"

"No, I told you I fell. I was running, lost my concentration, tripped, and fell," she said simply. It was true.

"Why were you running?"

"Chasing a runner's high." Liar. Any further probing was cut-off by Jane's fingers smoothing over the scar again. "So you gonna tell me how you got this?"

"Shrapnel. The injury was minor."

"Shrapnel?"

"Yes," Maura brought her hand up and tangled their fingers together. "From an explosion."

"Oh," was all Jane could manage to say, blinking dumbly. She certainly wasn't expecting that.

Maura smiled gently. "Frustrating isn't it? To be given answers that leave you with more questions than you had before."

Touché.

"We match," Jane said, apropos of nothing, her voice hollow. There was no point in saying it, but she did it anyway.

"What was that?" Maura asked confused.

"Our scars. We match now. Who would have thought?" She said trailing off. She literally never thought about Hoyt once, his power over her having been replaced by something so much more awful. He was child's play in comparison and most likely eaten alive. Jane could only hope.

They fell into silence and Maura felt Jane receding to that place again, that dark pocket that had somehow formed in their separation. She wondered sadly if Jane's demons were anything like her own.

All Maura knew for sure was that she wouldn't lose her again. She would fight tooth and nail; she would die before letting that happen.

"Hey," she beckoned gently. Jane, a million miles away, instantly came back to her. Maura didn't know why that felt as good as it did.

"Sorry," Jane offered with a lopsided smile.

"Here." She pushed an object into Jane's hand and she unfurled her fingers to find a small mirror there. "What do you think?"

She sat up, marveling at the neat row of stitches in her reflection. It had taken five of them to pull her skin together again, the line of her cut perfect and seamless. Maura was right, she wouldn't scar this time.

The flat-side of a stethoscope was suddenly pressed against Jane's sternum.

"Deep breaths please," Maura requested.

Jane had to focus hard on the simple mechanics of inhaling and exhaling as Maura slid the disc all over the place, grazing the tops of her breasts. Good God. She slouched in relief when Maura drew her hand away only to jerk herself erect when Maura snaked her hand up her back, beneath her clothing.

Her heart was jackhammering.

Maura couldn't hide her amusement and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Jane, relax."

"Trying," she grumbled.

"Your lungs sound clear. That's good," she said brightly, repositioning the tiny drum. "You would be surprised at how many individuals come here with some form of respiratory ailment. Pharyngitis, pneumonitis, oh one child even had pertussis. Can you believe that?"

"Wow, fascinating," she lied. Jane could not give two shits. She tried to think about something else, anything else, and began counting the bricks in the wall.

"It is fascinating. Keep breathing for me. Deeper please."

Jesus Christ.

Maura's fingers skimmed along her skin as she slid the stethoscope left to right, then back again and Jane stifled a groan. The last time anyone had touched her this intimately was long before the virus. She hoped to God her arousal was not as transparent as it felt and couldn't stop herself from glancing sideways at Maura. Her face was framed by the thin metal eartips of her stethoscope. She smiled innocently at Jane before dragging the disc slowly down her spine. Jane's skin erupted in goosebumps. Fuck. Those were definitely fingernails. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn Maura was deliberately drawing this out.

"All done," she said finally withdrawing her hand. "Your heartbeat is slightly irregular though," she added with a poorly hidden smirk.

Jane tried to casually roll the tension out of her shoulders and ignore what was happening below her waist. She cracked her neck for good measure.

"But I'll live?" she asked coolly, proud of her quick recovery.

"You will. Now strip."

Jane was knocked right back on her ass. She heard the words like radio static and did not comprehend. Maura removed her latex gloves with a snap and waited.

"Huh?"

"You. Clothes. Off," she gestured helpfully at Jane's body.

"Right…" Jane said meekly, unlacing her boots and kicking them off. Her mouth became a desert and she swallowed down hard. Was Maura just going to stand there and watch her? "At least buy a girl dinner first."

"Don't be so dramatic. And just down to your under things," she said with a seemingly passive face as Jane squirmed. "Please," she added politely.

Jane chewed on her lip and gathered the front of her jacket in her hands. This…this was gonna be bad.

"Are you gonna watch me the whole time?"

Maura cocked her head, a curious, unreadable expression on her face.

"Just turn around," Jane said, laughing nervously.

Maura arched one eyebrow playfully before reaching into her coat pocket to retrieve a pen. She clicked it, her eyes never leaving Jane, before finally turning away to busy herself with Jane's chart.

Jane looked skyward and exhaled. Slowly, she shed the jacket from her body. It was like time had crunched itself into her like an accordion and she couldn't ignore the damage anymore. Every fracture and tear, every bit of decimation that riddled her body flared to life as she pulled away the fabric covering it.

She was able to hide this from her mother. By some miracle, Frankie had the forethought to tell their mom that Jane had been holed up in a safehouse all this time. There was no sense in upsetting her. But soon Jane would be half-naked in front of the smartest woman she'd ever known. Maura would have questions, very hard questions, and she would want answers. For the first time in what felt like forever, Jane was standing still with no where to hide.

She desperately needed a distraction.

"So, tell me about Garrett," she said absently, pulling her top over her head.

Maura stopped writing but didn't turn around. "There's nothing to tell, Jane."

Bullshit. "Well, can you tell me why he's here?" Jane asked. Her tone was curious and lacking the venom she'd used earlier.

"It's a long story," she sighed. "But let's just say his connections helped to maneuver him back into society."

"Connections. You mean his money."

"Yes. Back when money still mattered." Maura was scribbling again. "It was a very bad time. News of the outbreak was widespread and people were getting sick. Almost every form of communication you can think of had broken down – internet, print, telephone. When you mix that in with the mass hysteria, you can see how someone like Garrett could take advantage of the situation and find his way out." She flipped a page and continued. "I'm not saying it was right and I'm certainly not saying that he shouldn't be brought to justice for murdering his brother. But…we don't have a judicial system anymore. Prisons are now our homes. As a species, we are nearly wiped out. With all that in mind, the President decided to issue a pardon to Garrett and others like him so that we could begin the process of rebuilding as soon as possible. It's over-simplifying things but so far it's worked out well."

"Super," Jane mumbled sarcastically, undoing the button on her pants. Her frayed-up henley and tank-top lay in a pile on the floor. "That still doesn't answer my question though."

"Are you almost done?"

"Almost," she replied, not sure if Maura was asking about her clothes or Garrett. "How come he's here? I mean, out of all the places he ends up here…" The subsequent "with you" was left unspoken.

"I don't know. That would be guessing."

"What happened to 'I guess all the time now. Patients are mean to me.'?" Jane toyed.

"That is not how I said it. And I only guess when I'm forced to."

"Does that same rule extend to lying?"

"Absolutely not!" Maura exclaimed, genuinely offended. She threw her pen down onto the paper for emphasis. "I feel like I'm being interrogated, Detective."

Ouch.

"Okay, okay, sorry. Geez." Jane pushed her pants down, wincing at the sharp pain in her torso. She kicked everything into a messy pile, then slid it off to the side with her foot.

"All done?"

"No! No, not yet. Don't turn around." She felt idiotic shooting her hands out to wave her off.

"Jane, why don't you just ask me?"

She didn't need to see her face to know Maura was smiling.

"Ask you what?"

"About Garrett. I feel like we've had this conversation before," Maura said patiently. "And if you take a moment and not let your emotions cloud your thinking, you already have the answer you want because I made my decision a long time ago."

"Oh," she breathed, her cheeks getting warm. A stupid little smile grew on her face.

"Are you finished now?"

"Yes. No, wait," she blurted and Maura sighed loudly. "If that's the case, then why does he look at you like that?"

"'Like that'? What does that even mean?" she asked exasperated.

"Like he wants you. I know the look."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do," she said confidently and then thought about it...

"Interesting."

"I mean, guys are always throwing themselves at you," she said, sloppily covering her tracks. "I mean they did...before...uh, not that you don't get that now cause you're still…" God, now she was the rambler. "Bottom line is I don't like it. I don't trust him."

"We work together. That's it," she insisted. Jane didn't say anything. She was probably crossing her arms all skeptical. "Occasionally, we share a lunch…"

"God, Maura," Jane whined.

"We are just friends," she said and then amended it. "Not even that. We are more like co-workers. Workplace acquaintances who just happen to have a sexual history-"

"Stop," Jane interrupted and sighed. "That guy wants to get acquainted with more than just your lunch."

"Possibly but it doesn't matter. Please, give me a little credit."

"I do," she said, stepping forward anxiously. "I just get...concerned."

"I know you do. Thank you. Now no more stalling, I'm turning around," she announced.

"Maura."

Maura froze. Jane's low, raspy voice was hushed but she could feel it settle heavily on the nape of her neck.

"Whatever you do, don't freak out. Okay?"

"I don't understand," she said uneasy.

"Promise me you won't. I was out there for a long time. I had to…" Jane didn't know how to explain it. She imagined how she would react if their roles were reversed and immediately became discouraged.

"You forget I'm a doctor. Previously a medical examiner. I've-"

She was interrupted by Jane's hands squeezing her arms.

"Promise me."

"I…I promise," she said.

Jane released her and stepped back.

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Note: I know this is ending on a cliff-hanger of sorts, but I really didn't mean for it to. The chapter was just getting too damn long and I had to cut it off before it got ridiculous. I hope to post the next update soon. :)