Chapter 7

"You're leaving so soon?" Jane couldn't hide her disappointment.

"I'm afraid I have to. My flight departs at seven tomorrow morning." Maura had already slipped one arm into her coat. "Thank you for dinner."

"Sure…"

It was a strange feeling for Jane knowing that Maura would be gone for a week. Off to some conference about the nuances of taking apart dead people. Maura had given her the proper name for it at one point, but she'd forgotten it within minutes. She'd been too busy trying to convince Maura to have lunch with her.

She watched from her kitchen counter, sickened by her growing co-dependence on this woman. Maura cinched the belt on her form fitting coat, pulling out the long blonde hair pinned under the collar. It cascaded around her shoulders and Jane tried not to imagine what it would feel like slipping between her fingers.

She missed her already.

"Jane." Maura stood at the front door expectantly.

Right. She hurried over and after a long hug and quick kiss on the cheek, Maura was gone. The door clicked shut and she leaned against it, dejected. Seven days. Maybe she could take up a hobby. Or catch up on that obscure British TV show that Maura liked so much.

"Jesus, Rizzoli," she muttered to herself.

Just as she began to question her investment in their relationship, a flash of red caught her eye.

"Crap."

She snatched the scarf off the back of her couch and raced out the door.

"Maura!" she shouted. "Maura wait!"

She burst out onto the street just in time to see the tail lights of Maura's kickass Mercedes pulling away from the curb. She shouted her name again, waving the scarf in the air, but it was futile. The car receded into the distance then turned the corner, and she was gone again.

Jane stood there still in her work suit, the damp concrete soaking through her socked feet. The scarf whipped gently in the breeze and she folded it carefully into her hands. No big deal, she thought. She'd just give it back later. She turned towards her apartment, studying the fabric as she made her way up the steps. Man, this thing was fancy. The woman really loved her accessories.

Jane smiled and brought the silk to her face.

Seven days and she'd be home.

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Jane was ready to jump out of her own skin. She wanted to fidget. To pick at her cuticles and chew on her lip and do any number of nervous habits she didn't realize she had given up. Her old habits had just fallen away. They were reveals - weaknesses that couldn't be tolerated. She'd convinced herself that she had no more weaknesses.

Then the sight of Maura nearly brought her to her knees.

Standing there stripped down to just a simple black sports bra and boyshorts, nearly every inch of her lay bare and open and raw; she'd forgotten what it felt like to be utterly vulnerable. To trust someone this much and not make them earn it.

At the present time, Maura had very different concerns. Her hand rested softly over her mouth, eyes brimming with something like horror and sadness. The pang in Jane's heart twisted like a knife at the sight.

This was precisely why she didn't want to do this from the very beginning.

Maura looked lost as her eyes moved over Jane's body, taking in a network of new marks that expanded across her torso. A particularly gruesome scar on her shin made Maura wonder how Jane survived it. Her attention inevitably settled on the bullet wound that felt newer than it was. That it was familiar and therefore comforting was disconcerting enough. The fact that it was the only wound that Maura recognized created an entirely new set of problems.

"Jane…" she finally choked out.

"I know," she followed Maura's gaze, looking down at herself. "But I'm fine. I'm here, that's all that matters."

Maura nodded absently, not believing a word. They stood a few feet apart and she reached out to touch the scar near Jane's ribcage. The last time she had done this Jane was still red and swollen, the thick gut of the sutures straining to hold the skin together. She didn't notice the tears welling in her eyes until everything went blurry.

"Maura," Jane said softly. "Please don't cry. You know it kills me."

Maura's fingers pressed tenderly into her skin, tracing the perimeter where the old met the new. The bullet had passed through Jane like she was nothing. It nicked the ridge between her seventh and eighth ribs, shattering the cartilage. The fragments had to be removed in surgery and she wondered if Jane knew any of it.

For a long time it had been the worst day of Maura's life.

She spent countless hours sitting at Jane's bedside, clinging to the hope that her eyes might one day open. With each day that passed, the chances of Jane regaining consciousness would diminish and Maura knew that statistically, the numbers were not on their side. She pushed away the cold reality of science and instead, envisioned their lives returning to normal.

Maybe even becoming something more.

She would have gladly stayed right there, suspended in the limbo of improbability, if it meant holding onto Jane. It wasn't the first time she had modified her behavior to suit her love and it wouldn't be the last.

In hindsight, her actions were just a preparation for the true hell that was looming.

The outbreak reached its tipping point at an alarming rate and like a wildfire, consumed everything in its path. It demarcated the world with bold, prejudiced strokes until the canvas was nearly blacked out, and Maura spiraled in a direction she never thought possible. There were too many moving parts even for her, and when she finally uncovered the truth it was too late…

Some days she couldn't even recognize the person staring back at her in the mirror.

When the rebels came for them, her team would escape through the chaos and find their way back to Boston only to find their city on fire. Every decision she made, every draw of her scalpel, every bloody compromise - they had all been for nothing.

But they had led her here. And now there was Jane.

Jane. Who had clearly been on her own path this whole time…

A quick glance at one of Jane's wrists and Maura felt a sharp tightening in her chest. It had faded but to her trained eye it might as well have been bleeding out all over her infirmary floor. Ligature marks. She'd been bound by something unforgiving, something other than rope. Wire maybe…

She suddenly felt nauseous and a single, terrifying thought festered in her mind.

"Maura, what is it?"

"Were you…" The question caught in her throat like a thorn but she had to know. She touched Jane's wrist, her fingertip ghosting over the broken line of skin. "Were you captured at any point during-"

"No." Jane said firmly, piecing all the clues together. "No, I was never taken."

Relief washed over her and she slowly closed her eyes. The unshed tears finally broke through her eyelids and ran down her cheeks. She cursed at herself, knowing this wasn't doing either of them any good. A pair of weathered but tender hands settled on her cheeks and she opened her eyes to find Jane, full of compassion.

"You can't take what you can't catch." Her gaze lingered on Maura's cheek as she slid her thumb over it, catching the tears. "I've always been really good at running away from guys," she said with a slight grin. "I had so much practice avoiding my mom's blind dates."

That earned her a genuine smile. She could tell the lamest joke and Maura would always find her charming. Jane needed to make this easier for them. Like ripping off a bandaid, the sooner it was over the better, and her reticence gave way to humor.

"So we gonna do this or what?" she asked. Her hands dropped and she clapped them together once with feigned excitement. "You know how I love a good uh, probing."

"I hate to disappoint, but there will be no probing," she said but then added gamely. "Unless you would like me to."

Jane froze on the spot unsure of whether or not that was a joke, looking a tiny bit frightened but mostly intrigued.

Goodness, this woman.

Maura, feeling a touch better, sniffled lightly and attempted some form of professionalism. "Well, it appears that your bullet wound healed without incident. No signs of infection. That is excellent considering your circumstances."

She put up a good front but didn't fool Jane. Her voice was so empty it broke her heart. Maura touched the scar again, then stepped around to examine the exit mark on her back.

Jane fought the urge to lean in and pull her into her arms.

"I'm sorry," she said, so low that Maura had to lean in to hear her.

"What?"

Jane placed her hand over Maura's and held it against her. She knew the damn thing would never completely heal for either of them. Arguably, it had changed the course of their lives.

"For this. It was…" she grasped for what she really wanted to say. "If I'd known what shitty timing it was to pull a stunt like that I would have figured out another-"

Maura cut her off, shaking her head. "Please don't. You don't ever have to apologize for that. I'm not sure if anyone else would have been so brave in the heat of the moment."

A rush of emotion suddenly filtered through Jane's senses and she broke their eye-contact briefly upon the revelation.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

She smiled, a wonder-filled, almost child-like smile. "Nothing's wrong. I just remembered something for the first time."

Maura blinked, waiting for her to continue.

"You were the last person I felt before…" she searched for the right term. "Before everything went lights out."

Maura considered this seriously.

"Memory loss is common after a traumatic event. Research suggests that it's possibly a coping mechanism to assist in recovery. Your gunshot wound and subsequent coma certainly qualify," she explained. Jane's bemused expression told her that she'd missed the point of her admission entirely. Her lips quirked into a tight smile as a small warmth grew in her belly. "Of course, fragmentary memory loss can be pieced together over time or uncovered through dialogue. You're right, I was there by your side. Perhaps our recent proximity triggered the memory."

"Yea," she agreed. "I mean with all the touching-"

"Clinical-type touching."

"Of course. Totally professional all the way."

Jane's sarcasm was in full force, but Maura couldn't really counter it without lying. "What else do you remember?"

Jane shrugged her shoulders.

"Honestly, not a whole lot. It's mostly general stuff. I remember Frankie dying and you saving him while I lost my shit. All I could think was that if I didn't get rid of Bobby, he was going to hurt someone else." Jane took in a deep breath through her lips. "So I did what I did and it hurt like a bitch and then, there you were. You tried to stop the bleeding didn't you? Someone pressed on the hole which hurt like hell, by the way, so thanks."

"My pleasure," she said dryly, trying not to think about how much blood Jane lost.

Jane narrowed her eyes as she sifted through her memories. "The sun was behind you. You blocked it when you leaned over me." Maura's blonde hair had fallen over her cheeks as she pressed into her with impossible force and then Jane passed out. "You said my name, told me to hang on, told me that I would be all right."

"For only having a general recollection, that is quite detailed," she said pleasantly.

"I have a small brain so I only hang onto the stuff that counts."

"I don't think that's true, Jane. While I've noticed that the diameter of your skull is possibly in the lower percentile for women of your height and weight, it's not significant enough to suggest microencephaly," she said, nodding supportively. "Small brain disorder."

She made a face and rubbed the back of her head. "Geez, I was joking."

"Oh…" Maura brought her free hand up to a sour Jane and affectionately touched her cheek. "That's not an official diagnoses, of course. I'd have to run tests to be sure, maybe even probe your brain."

"So I'd get probed after all?" Jane grinned.

"Possibly. If you wanted it. We'd have to schedule a follow-up appointment." Maura felt a tugging on her lab coat and realized it was Jane playing with the hem. Jane was so tall. She smelled lightly of grass and the night air. Her voice had somehow deepened even further sending a shiver through Maura.

"I think I need a second opinion. How do I know you're not trying to take advantage and fleece me?"

"Your concern is understandable, but my services are free. And if you didn't trust my opinion, it wouldn't have been so easy to get you out of your clothes."

There was a heated silence between them and Jane's hooded eyes widened slowly with her smile. That one definitely crossed some sort of imaginary line between them. If the lines even existed anymore. They certainly wouldn't hold up for much longer under this type of unabashed trampling.

It would have happened eventually. They both knew it. The infectious banter, the flirtation, the delicious tension - it was impossible not to get pulled into the game again. That it picked up again so quickly and so easily was something neither of them anticipated.

Maura blinked first. The raised scar tissue under her fingers refusing to let her float too far off the ground. She caught Jane with her gaze and held it; felt her sigh as her fingers lazily circled the scar once more.

"Jane, promise me you won't ever, ever do anything like that again."

Jane's eyes darkened and she smiled wryly. The one thing Maura wanted the most and Jane couldn't give it to her.

"Doctor's orders?" she asked lightly.

"My orders," she clarified.

"Oh God, even worse." Jane teased, squeezing the hand in hers.

Maura frowned as something unfamiliar scratched over her knuckles. In lieu of everything, she'd not noticed the sheath of material over Jane's right arm until now.

"Jane, what…?"

"Oh. Um…" She'd forgotten about it because she never took it off. Hadn't for weeks.

"Are you injured?" Maura asked and immediately began pulling at the fabric.

Jane said nothing as Maura quickly discovered the bit of material tucked in on itself and began to unravel it. As the length grew and the cloth stretched out in her hand, realization crept over her features. The intricate pattern was worn down. Small tufts and strands popped out in random places where the stitching had been disturbed. Sharp creases were everywhere, the outcome of having been wound around the arm that carried it. She rubbed the silk gently between her fingers, knowing that the once delicate fabric had lost its quality some time ago. Maura could feel the sweat and dirt that filled its fibers now. The blood. Every inch of it filled with Jane.

Jane watched her solemnly, not knowing what to say. She was never good at this kind of thing.

"Do me a favor?" she asked.

Maura would have done anything. "Yes?"

"Tell me about this scarf."

Maura looked up at her, eyes wet, caught off guard by the request. Jane just smiled sadly and with a subtle lift of her eyebrows, urged her to speak.

"The material is one hundred percent silk, dyed using local berries and roots from the region where it was made." She continued to unwind the fabric from Jane's arm, folding it over itself into a squared stack in her hand. "The scarf is unique, a one-of-a-kind item made by a young female villager. A visiting aid worker had helped nurse the villager's daughter back to health, and as a show of gratitude was given this piece. It was unnecessary. Too kind, really." The closer Maura got to Jane's arm, the healthier the scarf seemed to get. "You see this pattern in the fabric?"

Jane had probably accumulated hours staring at it. "I've seen it."

"This curve here, and looping arcs extending out," she traced the design with her fingers, teasing the inside of Jane's forearm. "This denotes the village. And this geometrical shape within it is a family emblem. It is an intricate design and repeats itself through the length of the scarf. It probably took weeks to make this by hand." Maura sighed. "It was really…it was too much."

"You left it at my place. I always meant to give it back but I guess I forgot and you never asked-"

"I remember leaving it, Jane," she said.

"You do?" Of course she did. Maura didn't forget anything, especially when it came to her wardrobe. "Why didn't you ever..."

"I'm not sure," she said. Her open expression was truthful as could be. At the time, it just felt right. Why not let an honest lapse turn into a non-threatening gesture of…what? Friendship alone would never resonate so deeply in her. Maura's features went soft. "Maybe the reason I left it was the same reason why you took it with you."

Jane's heart did a flip-flop in her chest.

She dropped their eye contact, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn't quite handle. She was grateful when Maura read her body language, smiled quietly, and continued her work. The scarf began unspooling itself as she almost reached the end. After a couple more turns, the material fell away and she aligned the edges neatly before setting it on the tray.

The pressure marks held in Jane's olive skin like a beveling. Maura smoothed her fingers over them for no reason other than it felt wonderful just to touch her again.

"It was my good luck charm you know," Jane said, breaking the long silence.

Maura stopped believing in luck a long time ago. "Did it work?" she asked sadly.

"It did."

She nearly scoffed. One simple look at the body in front of her told a different story. She slid her fingers down to Jane's wrist, a mixture of frustration, anger, and love surging within her.

"I don't believe you," she said, her tone serious and challenging.

She gave the wrist in her hand a gentle tug and Jane hesitated before stepping forward. They both straightened their posture and stared at each other as a familiar, intense spark flared to life in their chests. Goose bumps instantly prickled under her touch and Maura suppressed the grin that sprang up. She already had the advantage.

Jane could fight her on it all she wanted, but Maura would have answers.

One way or another she would get them.

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