A/N: Alright, here we are FINALLY. So I'm reducing the chapter length quite drastically as I find it takes too much out of me to write 6-7k chapters. I'm the kind of person who has to do it in one shot, or I won't ever touch it again. Hope you like it regardless of length, I've wanted to explore the depressed Jane a bit more, and with shorter chapters, I find, the story will flow more.
Ignore retarded mistakes, I shall proof read after class.
Sweat dripped from a creased forehead, trailing down high cheek bones, down a square jaw and continued along a strong, slender neck. It mixed with the rest of the thin sheath of salty perspiration that covered the tall, lanky, muscular body. Breath hitched with every relentless, fervent motion. Her throat burned from the intensity of the physical action.
Jane leaned forward; the burning muscles in her arms didn't show any signs of renunciation as they flexed again and again. The combination of strong biceps, developed triceps and rippling forearms gave her the right amount of force as she shifted her weight from her right foot to her left, sending a powerful right hook into the synthetic material of the punching bag.
The brunette was currently in Maura's garage, hammering down punches like heavy rain, following the heavy riffs from Slipknot's "Heretic Anthem". Her knuckles were carefully and tightly taped to prevent any damage to the delicate skin. This particular training equipment was a new, and temporary, addition to the detective's workout routine. The petite doctor wasn't very fond of having a very sweaty brunette hitting a bag in close proximity to her Mercedes.
She didn't particularly love the idea, but where else am I gonna do it? Unless there's a secret wing to this house that I didn't know about, this is the best I can do...for now.
Jane blew air on her top lip, causing the sweat that had pooled around the soft skin to splash in front of her, coating the punching bag. Her fist slammed into the same spot. The sweat, once more, spread on nearby surfaces.
The detective had been taking her antidepressants regularly for two weeks now, or as Maura would put it: Her serotonin reuptake inhibitors. She could slowly start to feel herself becoming...herself, again. Her girlfriend banned anything that had a drop of alcohol in it, even those little yummy chocolates with Brandy. You know the ones. Nazism? Sorta, but Jane knew if she wanted to get better, she couldn't afford to get sucked back into old habits.
"How are you feeling today, detective?" Dr. Fowler asked from her usual chair. Her legs were crossed and exposed from the knee down, due to the skirt's length.
"Shit, crap, dirt, garbage." Jane admitted. She sat legs spread, arms crossed over her chest, while looking down at the empty void between her two feet, which is, in itself, a subconscious reconstruction of the emptiness she feels in her chest.
"Would you be comfortable elaborating this feeling?"
"I have a trouble sleeping." She replied, her stare not shifting away from the spot on the ground.
"This is very common in patients who suffer from depression. I would prescribe you sleeping aids; however, they might interfere with the pills you're currently taking. I can suggest establishing a routine before going to bed and doing so at the same hour every night, even on weekends."
"We don't get much weekends."
"I understand that. In your line of work, regular work schedules are..."
"Non-existent." Jane finished with a half smile
Barbara nodded with a knowing smile before looking down at her note pad. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward slightly as she gazed up at her patient. "Let me repeat myself, how are you feeling, emotion wise?"
"Maura's been real supportive. I mean, I'm lucky to have someone who'd put up with me on a regular basis, y'know?" Jane looked up at the doctor for the first time, their eyes locked. She could see the genuine compassion in the woman's stare. It made her feel comfortable. "I feel like...like the only thing I see is a dark hole, like it's slowly closing in on me. I feel like it's suffocating me, and it makes me...anxious, in a way."
"And how do you usually cope with this?"
The detective leaned back on the couch, draping an arm over the back and crossing one of her legs, ankle resting on her knee. "I drink. I used to. It lessened the feeling, even if it was just for a few hours. I could breathe again." She didn't feel embarrassed, mostly because she knew, or felt like, Barbara wouldn't judge her no matter what she said.
"This 'darkness' you speak of, I think it's your depression as a whole, weighing down on you, both physically and mentally. Think of it as a black cloud, rain just waiting to poor down." Barbara looked down at her lap, willing her eyes to deviate from the gorgeous brunette. "What you need is an umbrella. Not to hide and ignore the cloud, but to shield yourself from the rain until it leaves." She nervously tapped the end of her pen against the paper.
"Isn't that what the crazy pills are supposed to do?" She asked with a hit of sarcasm.
"In a way, they do and they don't." Dr. Fowler paused, moving the hair that had fallen in front of her glasses. "When you threat a wound, you wouldn't simply wash it and hope it heals perfectly on its own."
"You cover it up to prevent it from getting an infection. I'm starting to get the hang of these metaphors." Jane grinned as the woman smiled at her.
Barbara nodded once and smiled slightly. "The more chances you have on your side, the more successful, and rapid, your recovery will be." She deepened.
"What are you suggesting, doc?"
"Surround yourself with things you love. Occupy your mind with things you like."
"I could...spend more time with Maura."
"What I'm saying, detective, is you should do things that you like. You're a very selfless individual. It's a great trait to have, but you're forgetting about yourself. Take time on your own, find yourself again. Find Jane Rizzoli."
Jane shrugged. "I like...being active." She never really thought about the things she enjoyed doing, her time otherwise spent trying to please everyone around her.
"Great, let's start there." Dr. Fowler said with a smile, leaning back in her chair.
Great, let's start there, Jane thought. Her therapists' words hung in her mind at the memory of her last session.
The unrelenting drums and guitar riffs came to an abrupt end, pitching the room into a cold silence. She stopped the well tenderized bag from swaying and rested her forehead against it.
A few minutes passed, salty drops of water dripped down the brunette's chin, wetting the toes of her running shoes. Déjà-vue anyone? The brunette thought as she pushed herself off of the bag, throwing a towel around her shoulders and gulping the rest of the refreshing water that remained in the bottle.
She aimlessly threw the empty bottle in the garbage can. She shoots, she scores! The detective then worked on ripping off the hand tape, rolling it into a small ball then throwing it over her shoulder. She pumped her fist in the air as it ricocheted on the inside of the nearly empty metallic can, falling into the bottom with a small thud. Rizzoli wins the game with a three pointer! She put both of her fists in the air, doing a full 360 turn, only to stumble onto one of Maura's misplaced rollerblades in the process.
Chuckling, Jane used both corners of the towel to wipe off the quickly drying sweat from her face and neck. She ducked underneath the partially opened sectional door, crossing the fairly sized courtyard in just a few long strides. The detective silently entered the house as to not wake a sleeping doctor, seeing as she had decided to wake up at the shit crack of dawn.
Jane tip toed her way into the kitchen; much like an evil cartoon thief would, silently creeping around the counters, stopping when she reached the right cupboard. She looked to her left, then to her right, before opening the door slowly. Reaching up with an eager hand, her fingers wiggled like she was about to get her hands on a pot of gold. Commonly referred as 'pills', for those of you who are sane human beings.
Jane set the prescribed medication on the counter before venturing out to find the golden syrup to her gold nuggets. Back against the counter, hands extended on either side of her, she crossed her legs one over the other as she stealthy slid to her left, eyebrow raised and eyes trained on the prize, a.k.a, the fridge. She swiftly moved from the counters to rest her back against the cold, metallic surface of the freezer door. She kept her whole body glued against the door, safe from a lanky arm slowly reaching for the handle.
With the dexterity of a jewel crafter, the brunette silently opened the door far enough for the width forearm and hand to sneak its way in. She stopped all movements and melodramatically wiped the sweat, which would have been there if she was actually trying to crack a million dollar safe, off of her brow with the towel around her neck.
Her face contorted into an array of silly faces, which would undoubtedly have made Jim Carrey jealous, as she felt the inside of the door. Fingers slid around something that felt familiar and without hesitation, her hand fully wrapped around its circular shape. No, not that. She pulled it out of the stainless steel appliance without a sound, holding it up in the air with triumph.
Her fantasy was broken as, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a petite blond woman. "Oh, hey. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" Jane asked as she cracked the water bottle open, taking a giant sized swig. Golden syrup indeed. How can water become the best tasting liquid on this planet after a work out? Magic. It's magic. Magical Sorcery.
The doctor had been leaning against the wall in the hallway which gave her a front row view of the brunette's performance. Her hands were stuffed into the kangaroo pocket of the red pullover hoodie she was currently wearing. It looked two sizes too big for her petite frame. If this didn't tell you it wasn't hers, the massive Boston Red Sox logo would.
Yes, Maura could have asked Jane what she was doing, or why she was walking around with more stealth than Houdini himself. But, she settled with assisting to the silver screen performance with a dreamy smile that all but screamed 'I am so in love with you, you crazy woman'. "No, not at all. I woke up because my body and mind felt rested enough to go through a whole day of-"
"Tending to your sick girlfriend? Fun." She finished the other woman's sentence with sarcasm, taking another swig of the cold water.
"Jane..." Maura pushed herself off of the wall, hands still hidden in the warm confines of the pocket, as she padded her way towards her girlfriend. She yawned as gracefully as a lioness waking from a nap, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I'm just kid-Woah, you found my old Sox hoodie? I've been looking for it...for-fucking-ever." Jane exclaimed as excitedly as a child receiving the latest gaming console on Christmas morning.
"Oh this?" Maura looked down at herself momentarily, staring back at Jane with sleepy green eyes. "I might have borrowed it a few months ago and...forgot to return it." She said with a small voice, avoiding all eye contact with her girlfriend.
"What happened to miss 'I-always-return-what-I-borrow'?" There wasn't a hint of malice in her question as she slowly approached the barely awake doctor.
"It smelled like you and..." Maura started, still looking down at her feet as her cheeks quickly changed color.
"Say no more." She lifted one hand up in front of Maura's face. "All charges of theft have been lifted on the grounds that...you're too damn cute." Jane then swiftly wrapped her arms around the doctor's waist, pulling her closer.
The blond looked up with a small smile. "Would you be so inclined to believe that I could get away with murder?" She asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.
The question made Jane chuckle. "Bring a teddy bear in court and cuddle it. I'm sure the judge would turn a blind eye even if you were guilty of genocide."
"Perfect, now I know how I'm going to get away with your murder, detective." Maura replied gleefully, poking Jane's nose before she wrapped both of her arms around the taller woman's neck.
"Don't forget to make me write my will before, making sure that I state everything that I own will be yours if I ever 'suddenly' die."
"I will, of course, marry you, as to acquire the benefits from your life insurance: a large sum of money." The petite woman continued to explain, seemingly proud of herself. Her eyes, however, were transfixed on the brunette's lips for a short while.
"I'd be worried if I didn't know you worked on hundreds of cases like these." Jane noticed Maura's eyes dip down, and she couldn't help but follow suit. I Haven't felt horny like this for months. I guess this a good sign. I'll have to ask Barb. Hey, doc, guess what? My girlfriend made me horny today. Awkward.
"I would also be... Although, it is tempting, isn't it?" Maura asked as she pulled the detective closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Talk cash and even I'm tempted." Jane quickly breathed the sentence out before capturing Maura's lips with her own. After a minute passed she pulled back with a smile and swollen lips. "I'm going for a run." She announced.
"I'd love to join you. However, I'd have to do my asana before going and knowing how impatient you are..." She trailed off, grinning at Jane.
"I should get offended by that," The brunette raised an eyebrow, yet returned the grin. "But, you're right."
"Did you eat anything? Here," The doctor didn't wait for Jane to answer, as she could predict with 99.9 % probability that she consume anything before working out. She grabbed a red apple from the bowl of fruit that lay on the Kitchen Island, and threw it in the air at the detective. "An apple a day keeps the doctor away." Maura chided cheerfully.
"Well," She started with a smirk as she caught the apple in one hand, turning it over as to examine it. "I should round up all the apples on this planet and throw them in a volcano if that means keeping you here...and not away."
Chuckling, the petite blonde placed a hand on her chest. "You're so romantic, plotting to destroy the existence of a fruit for me. Where have you been all my life?" She continued, melodramatically.
"Holy sarcasm. and here I thought you were a morning person." Jane winked at her girlfriend, and chucked the fruit back at her, whom caught it out of luck, looking like a frightened cat holding a foreign object between its paws. "That, and...I don't like apples. Besides, these are my apples." She said, holding up the bottle of pills she had fetched, a la James Bond, earlier. She let two small, white pills slide in her palm and threw them in the back of her throat. She drank from her water bottle to help with the chalky texture.
"Have fun, honey, and be safe." Maura approached Jane and slipped her arms around her waist, getting on the tip of her toes in order to reach the taller woman's lips and deliver a tender kiss. "Oh! And don't eat anything on the way there, or back." I know you all too well, Jane Rizzoli. She's going to visit Angela and of course, knowing her she'll make Jane an impromptu meal and talk about how I've been a bad girlfriend for not feeding her properly. Which is highly incorrect, if you ask me. And seeing as you're reading this, you are.
"I expect a mountain of food when I get back." The detective kissed Maura once more. She quickly deepened the kiss and started playing with the hem of the Sox hooded sweatshirt. She lifted it slowly, and the Doctor complied, lifting her arms up to facilitate its removal. This didn't surprise Jane at all, it was her plan, after all.
After the item had been successfully taken off from the petite woman, Jane pulled back from the embrace with smirk as she slipped on the sweatshirt. "Thanks, I'll see ya later, Maur." She winked at her girlfriend, quickly grabbed her water bottle and dashed out of the house like a race horse.
"But..." Maura pouted, as the hasty brunette didn't leave her any chance to voice her disagreement. The poor woman was left in an empty house, safe for Bass (but he's one of those quiet types), without the warmth of a cotton sweatshirt. Good, she thought, I will have a sufficient amount of time to plot my revenge. Mark my words, Jane Rizzoli, mark my words. She laughed to herself, shaking her head at her own joke. And that is what happens when you spend virtually all of your time with this woman. Even when she's suffering from a depression, Jane is the only one who can make her feel like the happiest woman alive.