Two hours later, Maura returned. She spent the first one pulling herself back together, pondering how Jane could reduce all of her carefully constructed defenses to rubble with a few words. It was part of why she had so few friends; whenever she started to be close with someone, Maura backed away. She hadn't with Jane, and this was where it led.
Except that Maura had no clue what "this" was. She was still the Queen of the Dead, but she was someone else, too. Someone who had friends, in the plural; an adopted family, two if you counted the Homicide Division; and a heart that was no longer completely her own. She didn't understand at all.
She did understand that, short of keeping Jane and Frankie unconscious, tomorrow was going to be a long, difficult day, and she wanted Jane to look her best, so she gathered Jane's uniform and took it to the bathroom to be brushed and steamed.
When she finished, Maura checked on Jane again. She was snoring softly, still on her side. Joe Friday was still curled behind her thighs, and Bass made his way into the room and watched Jane. 'His thoughts can't be any more muddled than mine,' Maura thought, and rubbed his shell before changing into a nightgown, setting the alarm, and getting carefully into bed.
It was still dark when Jane's whimpers and motion woke her. Maura reached out and touched Jane's hip. "What do you need?"
Another groan was the answer. Maura slipped from bed and went to get a glass of water. She knelt by Jane and touched her face gently. "Wake up."
"Huh? Ow. Shit."
"Take your medication," Maura instructed.
"Ok." Jane pushed up enough to drink without drowning herself or the mattress. She picked the tablet from Maura's palm, threw it into her mouth, and emptied the water glass.
"Go back to sleep."
"Are you going to stay?"
"Yes." Maura put the empty glass on Jane's nightstand and went around the bed. She got in again.
"Closer," Jane demanded sleepily. She'd been shot; she could have a little babying in the middle of the night.
Maura moved slowly, so she wouldn't jostle her patient. She left several inches between them, but put her hand on Jane's hip. "Go to sleep," she instructed again, glad to hear minutes later that Jane listened.
Maura woke before the alarm clock and turned it off. She put on her robe, and coaxed the dog from the bed. Bass was gone, probably in search of a good spot for basking in the morning sun.
She started coffee before taking Joe into the back yard. It was fenced, but only high enough to keep Bass in, and Maura thought about replacing it with something dog proof since the dog was going to be here for several weeks.
After she fixed a cup of coffee, she got the phone and dialed the Rizzoli home. She was surprised when Frank answered, but gave him the message that she would pick Frankie up today. Going by how he looked yesterday, Frankie would be in no condition to drive by the end of the day.
That done, Maura put food and fresh water out for the animals and ate a bowl of cereal before going to the bedroom to get ready. When she came out of the shower, Jane was sitting on the bed with her feet on the floor. She looked as if she was getting ready to stand up. "Stop right there," Maura commanded.
"I need to pee."
Maura went to Jane, and sat beside her on the bed. She put her arm around Jane's waist, and they got her up. Maura stayed close, but let Jane walk unassisted to the bathroom.
She finished drying and put on undergarments, hose, and her slip while she waited for Jane. The toilet flushing was fine. The shower starting, not so much, and Maura hurried to the bathroom. "No shower yet," she said from the doorway.
"Geezus," Jane twitched.
"Once the stitches are out, you can, but until then, no."
"I look like crap and I probably smell worse."
"Be that as it may, you can wash in the sink." Maura got two washcloths and a towel from the linen closet and put them on the sink.
"What about my hair?"
Maura looked at the wild tangle. "I'll braid it, and you'll have your hat on. Do you need help?"
"I need coffee."
"I'll get you some," Maura answered, and left.
When she finished, Jane still didn't feel completely clean, but she could deal. She looked in the mirror, stunned at her too thin, pale face. Moving around made the pain spike, and she leaned on the sink and waited for it to pass. Jane was well acquainted with the ebb and flow of pain, to the point where she could ignore a great deal, but this wasn't one of those times. Fortunately, it faded before Maura returned.
Maura helped her dress again, and gave her a second cup of coffee and a slice of toast with a pain pill. Jane started to argue, saw the look on Maura's face, and decided against it.
"Why are we leaving so early?"
"So we can pick up Frankie."
"He drove yesterday."
"I'm driving today," Maura said in a way that made it clear the topic wasn't open for discussion.
Jane's family was still at the breakfast table when they entered, and as soon as Jane and Maura were seated, Angela put coffee, French toast, and bacon in front of them. Maura picked at hers, but Jane ate everything while Frankie finished dressing.
"You're going to stay for dinner," Angela told them before they left.
Two services were three times as bad as one. The short break between them meant that they had to grab something quick so the Rizzolis could take their medication. Parked in a McDonald's lot, Maura handed out yogurt and pills. No one talked while they ate, or while Maura drove to the next service.
The day's toll was obvious as Maura drove to the suburbs. Both Jane and Frankie dozed, and were asleep when they arrived. Maura looked from one to the other and knew she couldn't get them both from the car without assistance. Korsak and Frost were around them all day, helping both Rizzolis in and out of the car.
Maura got her phone and dialed the house she was parked in front of, and after a brief explanation, both Frank and Angela came out to give her a hand. More stairs were too much for any of them to contemplate right now, so Frankie got his father's recliner and Jane got the couch, with her head in Maura's lap, Maura's hand stroking her head.
Frank brought her a glass of wine and sat in Angela's chair. "How'd they hold up?"
"They were fine, but I don't see how they can do it again."
"Got to," Jane said quietly.
"Hey, baby," Frank said quietly. "How you feelin'?"
"I'm all right."
"Do you need something for pain?" Maura asked.
"Later."
"All right," Maura answered doubtfully.
Jane closed her eyes again. As long as she didn't move or try to breathe too deep, nothing hurt more than she could stand. Jane didn't want to worry Maura any more than she had all ready. Maura was distracted all day, her normally bright eyes dark. They hadn't resolved anything last night, and Jane knew Maura was still carrying that tension. Maura had to be tired, too. She was up doing things while Jane was unconscious, and doing even more while Jane was awake.
Guilt hit her then, for putting Maura through all of this, and all of the other things that shamed her came in with it. Why was she alive when so many good cops, good men, were dead? If she survived Hoyt, and she survived this, there had to be a reason, but what was it? She hated the way cops who didn't know her looked at her. Her own colleagues made a wall around her, and reluctantly parted only for the Mayor and Chief of Police after the first graveside service. She didn't like the way they looked at her, either. She was lucky, but she wasn't a hero, and certainly not the hero they would need while all that mess got cleaned up. All she wanted was to go back to work. She knew from experience that it would be three months before they let her return to her desk, and she would probably be chained there for another three. How long after that she got back on the street depended on how hard she worked. The only real holdup she could see was the psychologist. He reluctantly released her after a year, without her ever telling him anything of substance. She told Maura more about Hoyt than anyone, and still revealed little.
Just thinking about him, in no matter how roundabout a fashion, made her shiver, and Maura's hand moved to her forehead to check for fever.
"Would you please get a blanket?" Maura asked Frank. He nodded and got up, and came back with two blankets. He covered Jane first, then his son, then went to the kitchen.
"You're supposed to be keeping Maura company," Angela said as soon as he stepped foot on the linoleum.
"I am. I just came to get the wine."
"How are the kids?"
"Asleep. I just covered them up."
"Then I should slow this down."
"Probably. They had a hard day." He watched his wife adjust the knobs on the stove. "Ang, come sit with us."
"In a minute." Which she needed because she nearly lost two of her babies, and she wasn't sure she could see them looking so vulnerable just yet.
"All right." Frank went back to the living room. Maura was stroking Jane's head again, and it looked like Jane was really asleep again. "More wine?"
"Thank you." Maura held her glass out for him.
"How is she really?"
"She should still be in the hospital."
"Yeah, besides that." Some day, when they were out of hearing of either Jane or Angela, he would tell her about the final basketball game of Jane's high school career, for the state championship in her division. After the game, instead of begging a few bucks and an extension on curfew, she hobbled to his truck. "My foot really hurts."
"Let me see." And after one look, "Christ, Janie, how long has it looked like this?"
"Couple days," she muttered.
"Right." He got out his phone and called their family doctor, who agreed to wait at his office for her. She got a huge lecture while two infected toenails were removed, but it stayed a secret between them, even though he couldn't imagine how much painful they must have been, especially running at top speed. When he asked her why she didn't say anything before, Jane told him, "They were counting on me."
"She's stable," Maura said after a few seconds' consideration.
"So she hasn't made anything worse."
"No."
"If she does, you can make her go back to the hospital."
"I don't think anyone makes Jane do anything."
"Just you, Maura, and I'd love to know how."
Maura started to deny it, then reconsidered. Jane ran the marathon with her, in a spandex suit with P.U.K.E. across her chest. Jane went to yoga with her, no matter how much she complained about it. She made a point of ordering something with fruit or vegetables when they ate together. When they worried about Hoyt, Jane went to bed, and to sleep, because Maura checked after Frost arrived.
"I love those shoes," Angela said, startling Maura back to the present.
"Thank you."
"Me too," Jane murmured, then groaned. "I drooled on you, Maur. You shouldn't let me do that."
"It comes out in the wash," Angela said.
"Exactly," Maura agreed. "Do you want to sit up?"
"Unh uh. Comfy here."
"Then go back to sleep."
"Dinner?" Jane asked hopefully.
"I'll make sure you get up for dinner." Maura smiled a little.
"K." Jane shifted a little, and closed her eyes.
"Massage her scalp and she's yours forever," Angela told Maura.
Jane cracked one eye. "I'm not a stray dog."
"I'll keep that in mind," Maura answered, continuing the same movement along the line of Jane's hair where it was pulled close to her scalp.
"Sometimes it was the only thing that would quiet her down."
Both eyes opened then, and Jane pushed herself up. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, damn it, Ma. Ow. Don't you dare. Ow, ow, shit, ow. Do you see any rings? No. Ow." Jane pulled her right arm close to her body and glared at Angela.
"What did you do?" Maura and Angela asked in stereo.
"Just moved too fast. And yes, it hurts, damn it, so don't ask."
"Language," Maura reproved.
"Remember the study," Jane reminded her in the same tone. She stumbled across it one day while looking for something else on the web. People who swear at the onset of sudden pain experience less pain than those who don't. She saved the link, verified that the story was accurate, and gleefully e-mailed it to Maura.*
Angela smiled at them and got up. She returned to the kitchen, and turned things up, and got to work again. A family dinner went a long way toward making things right in her book.
She packed leftovers for Maura and Jane, and sent them home soon after the meal. Maura suspected Frankie was being bundled off to bed as she drove them back to her house. She walked Jane through the house to the bedroom. There was no need to pretend that either of them would be awake long.
She removed Jane's uniform, starting with the shiny black shoes. Her dressings needed to be changed, and Maura saw Jane sway a little while she waited for Maura to return with what she needed.
There was only a little dried blood on the bandages this time. She carefully cleaned and bandaged both wounds. She cleared up the mess, brought Jane a pain pill, and buttoned her into a flannel shirt before tucking her into bed.
Maura still had things to do before she could join Jane. The animals needed attention, and her answering machine was blinking. Before attending to either of those, Maura changed into a nightgown and robe and hung Jane's uniform in the bathroom. Half an hour later, she slipped into bed, and quickly into sleep.
Maura woke well before the alarm again, and heard the rain falling. "I don't want to do this," she thought, and remembered Jane's determination. "…my duty and my privilege," was what she'd said, and Maura knew that would get Jane through the day no matter what.
Maura turned off the alarm and got out of bed. Jane could sleep for another hour or so, and that was the best thing for her. The quiet time was good for Maura, too. She spent it on the floor with Bass, drinking coffee and feeding him the last of the fresh strawberries. It was nice to do something that didn't require thought, or deciphering complex emotions, or understanding Jane Rizzoli.
Maura thought she knew Jane, but one gunshot made her question everything. She still could not grasp Jane's insistence on sacrificing herself to her ideal of the greater good. That was what put her in Hoyt's grasp. It was what made Jane think that she could trade her life for Frankie's or Maura's, even though nothing ever made Maura as happy as the slightly desperate greeting Jane gave when she called after meeting with her biological father.
But what did it all add up to? Maura still wasn't certain. There were too many variables still in play, too many things that could go wrong. Today's weather was an example. It mean more work for so many people, beginning with Maura, who had to figure a way to get a shirt under Jane's uniform blouse. The dampness today would make it too easy for her to get chilled.
By the end of the day, Jane was trying to suppress a cough. They made no attempt to go inside when they took Frankie home. Maura hurried Jane home. The cough worried her, because it could herald infection, as well as cause Jane undue pain.
Jane was lethargic and sluggish, and Maura verified that she was running a fever. She dosed her with pain medication, an extra Tylenol, and cough syrup, and stayed until Jane was asleep. She changed her clothes, got a bottle of wine and some reading material, and came back to sit on the bed to keep an eye on Jane.
It reminded her of the hospital, as she listened to Jane's breathing, alert to any change that might signal trouble.
Jane didn't sleep easily, which also concerned Maura. She twitched, moaned, and murmured. Her fever persisted, and she coughed occasionally, once violently enough that she woke, groaning loudly at the pain.
It was a difficult night for both of them. Maura forced liquids and medicine into Jane every few hours, and left messages with the answering service for Jane's doctor. He called back early in the morning, and told Maura he'd meet her at the hospital. Maura looked at Jane and sighed, knowing Jane would feel betrayed, and knowing she had no choice.
Maura got off the phone with the doctor and called for a private ambulance. Then she hurried to dress and tend the animals before it arrived.
Jane stayed asleep, breathing shallowly, sweating, coughing occasionally, moaning afterward. Maura rode in the ambulance and stayed with her. It was a little less traumatic, since there was no blood, but there were x-rays and tests and four different bags hanging on the IV stand. By mid-afternoon, Maura realized she was going to be there for hours to come, and called Korsak to stop by her place on the way home to tend the animals. She didn't tell him what was wrong, but wasn't surprised when he showed up a few hours later.
"How is she?"
"Holding on."
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."
The look he gave Maura clearly said he didn't believe her. "Call me if you need me to take them for a couple days."
"Thank you so much."
"It's nothing. Take care of yourself, Doc."
"You too."
He left, and Maura went back to trying to read and watching Jane, who was forced to sleep sitting up to aid her breathing. It was obviously uncomfortable, and she twisted to the side a few times every minute seeking relief.
Maura thought for a minute that Jane was dreaming when she heard her voice, but the second time, she dropped her magazine and stood up. "Right here."
Jane looked at her with both eyes, tilted her head to one side and closed one eye. "They have me on some good shit," she concluded.
"They do. How do you feel?"
"Not feeling much of anything, but I wanna lay down."
"You can't."
"It hurts to breathe."
"I know."
"Then make it stop."
Maura didn't mean to begin crying. She was exhausted and worried, and Jane's belief that she could somehow fix everything was more than she could take.
"Oh, fuck. No, don't cry, Maur." Jane tried to reach for her. It was a lucky swipe, and she caught hold of Maura's sleeve. It was enough to tug on, to encourage Maura to come closer. "C'mon, it's all right." She found Maura's wrist in the fabric, and pulled a little harder, and Maura sat on the bed, her back to Jane, who tried to get her closer. "It's ok," she soothed.
"No, it isn't. You shouldn't have left the hospital in the first place, and now you have both bacterial and viral infections."
"It's worth it."
"No, it isn't. Your life is worth more than your pride, and if you don't think it is, I don't know what to say."
"I had to," Jane began.
"You didn't. No one would have thought less of you for staying in the hospital like you're supposed to, or using a wheelchair, or showing that you hurt. You're not superwoman."
Jane tried to sigh, but the attempt to draw in more air than usual both hurt and caused a coughing spell. Maura put her hand in the center of Jane's chest to both support her and keep her from leaning too far forward.
"Pretty colors," Jane gasped when she finished. It took nearly a minute for them to clear, and by that time, Maura had a cool cloth for her face and a cool drink for her throat. When she was settled again, Jane asked Maura, "Will you at least sit up here with me?"
Maura looked at the things connected to Jane, most of them on her injured side, before nodding. She picked up one of the journals and went around the bed. Half an hour later, they were both asleep, Jane's head on Maura's shoulder, Maura's cheek on Jane's head.
She knew by the quiet hallways that it was late when she woke. Jane was deeply asleep, and her breathing sounded better. She was pink instead of pale, and her fever was gone. Another crisis averted, and short of something apocalyptic, Jane was staying in the hospital until her doctor voluntarily discharged her, even if Maura had to tie her to the bed.
Maura blinked several times to clear away the distracting image those words brought up, but it made her start thinking again. She turned enough to kiss Jane's head and deeply inhaled her scent. It was all her, and if Jane were awake, Maura would be content to sit and unravel her braid and comb out any tangles. But she wasn't, and Maura had only the rollercoaster of her thoughts and a kaleidoscope of memories. Both, for months, had Jane at the forefront. She roiled through anger, fear, panic, dread, relief, laughter, joy, and returned to anger.
She couldn't remember ever being this angry before. It didn't even make sense, except that it was Jane, and since they became friends, Maura felt everything more intensely; so she was irrationally angry with Jane for putting her life in danger. Granted, the first circumstances were exceptional. There was nothing exceptional about what brought them here now. It was Jane's pride and bullheadedness, and while Maura admired those traits in other circumstances, she still did not understand what drove Jane to do things like that.
The hand on her thigh twitched, and Maura looked down. The scar on the top of her hand was nowhere as prominent as Jane believed it to be. On so many occasions, Maura saw her move her hands out of sight, as if she were ashamed of their appearance. She put her hand over Jane's, and Jane hummed a happy sound, and Maura questioned why that one small noise suddenly made everything all right.
The nurse came in and woke Jane again to check her vital signs. Jane sleepily did what was asked, and as soon as she was released, turned into Maura. This time, Maura put her arm around Jane, who slid down the bed a little and turned further into her. She was asleep again almost immediately, the twin reliefs of Maura's presence and the easing of pressure on her back allowing her to rest.
Maura watched her. The nurse coming in was only the beginning. Soon, there would be others, coming from nearly every department, and Maura ticked them off in her head. Phlebotomy, pulmonology, radiology, physical therapy. Jane's doctor, with whom Maura intended to have a chat. There were phone calls to make, too. Korsak, so he would tend the animals. Jane's parents. She should call work, just to see how things were going.
All of those things could wait until Jane was ready to let her go, which she wasn't ready to do, even after Dr. Green removed the stitches. Jane was familiar with the pull of suture thread, but it still flipped her out, especially on her chest, where the stitches looked huge.
The lecture he delivered to Jane while doing that eliminated Maura's need to speak with him alone. "If you do that again, Detective Rizzoli, you'll be looking for a doctor who puts up with that kind of bullshit," he told her.
"Got it. When can I go home?"
"Maybe tomorrow. We'll see how you're doing. And please take note: The stitches being gone doesn't mean you're healed. It's going to be a month or more. Again, are we clear?"
"Yeah, I'm not 100%."
"You're in the low 30s. Don't push it."
"Oh, come on, low 30s?"
"You shot yourself through and through, so there are two external injuries and a track of internal injuries. Then you complicate things by leaving your hospital bed barely a week after to stand in the rain and get pneumonia." He used his best dad voice.
Jane recognized the tone. She'd heard it countless times from her father's mouth, and struggled to not roll her eyes. A glance at Maura showed that she would get no support from that corner. "Fine, I got it. I'm an idiot."
"Reckless," Maura corrected gently, realizing it was the word she'd been searching for to describe Jane's behavior. "You're reckless with the wrong things."
"Exactly, Dr. Isles. I trust you'll keep an eye on her?"
"Yes, I will. Thank you."
He nodded. "See you tomorrow, Detective."
"I'm not goin' anywhere," Jane sighed like a grounded teenager. "Don't say it," she muttered to Maura when they were alone.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"Was that sarcasm?"
Maura just smiled, and Jane slowly reached up and pulled her pillow over her face.
* Honest. E-mail me for the link. I love science, especially when it lets me talk dirty. ;-)