A/N: In which the Dirty Robber is still The Dirty Robber

Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Liquor before beer, in the clear. Jenna attempted to remember the simple rhyme she'd spend much time chanting during her collegiate days. The muddled words sounded right, but she was having difficultly remembering the sequence in which she had followed them tonight.

"A Sam Adams, please," she finally decided as the bartender emerged back into view. It seemed like the safer option, as her night was slowly beginning to wind down.

The bartender popped the cap and nudged it in her direction, followed by a chilled mug. He frowned a little as Jenna's intoxicated form wavered over the countertop. "Want me to call someone for you, sweetheart?"

Jenna perked up considerably, fighting through her exhaustion and inebriation. She flashed him a sloppy smile. "I'm fine, thank you. I'll call my brother once I've finished my beer."

He nodded, looking more at ease as he went to tend to his other customers. She glanced a the mug, her eyes darting back to the bottle, quickly making the decision to gulp the liquid straight from it's original vessel. She drank it too fast, as drinking alone always seemed like more of a chore, and there was no conversation to help pace herself. She nudge the bottle away from her after tilting the last sip in her mouth, her stomach feeling a little queasy from the excessive carbonation.

That last drink had really done her in. She wobbled as she lowered herself from the stool, watching as the room swam around her. The Dirty Robber hadn't changed much over the years – same homey feel, same chipping paint emanated by the dim lighting. Her eyes fell on the empty booth by the door, the maroon vinyl fading, the seat slightly sunken from years and years of usage. If she squinted a little, she could almost see her mothers sitting there, Ma with a large bottle of beer, Mom delicately sipping a glass of Chardonnay. On either side of them, Jenna and Cody would have piled into the booth as well. Jenna would always meticulously color the kid's menu that remained the same for years. Cody, too small to reach the table, would sit on his knees as he shoved French fries into his mouth, a look of disdain from their mom, countered by a smug look of pride from their ma.

She sighed a bit wistfully, making her exit. She gulped in a breath of the warm evening air, leaning against the side of the building, a little unsteady on her heels. She reached for her phone, shooting Cody a quick text, which she could only hope he'd be able to decipher. She closed her eyes, wishing her intoxication were more blissful.

She was startled by the loud buzzing of her phone, expecting it to be Cody, but instead she was greeted by a frantic voice.

"Jenna, where the hell are you?"

Jenna nearly toppled over, though she should have been expecting this call. "Matt?"

"Yes, Jenna, who else would it be?" His voice was short, impatient. "Now would you mind telling me where the hell you are? You said you were gonna meet me after the reception, and-"

Shit. She immediately interrupted him, her head throbbing as she realized just how out of whack this fiasco "I'm sorry, everything just happened so fast today an'-"

"Are you drunk?"

"No...maybe."

"Fuck, Jenna. Just tell me where you are."

"I'm in Boston."

"What?"

"Boston, Matt," she repeated, not sure if her words had come up unclearly or he just hadn't registered it yet. "My Ma's in the hospital. There was an accident."

The tension waned considerably. "Is she okay?"

Jenna nodded, before realizing he couldn't see her. "Yeah, she's gonna be okay. Just a big scare, mostly. I'm probably gonna stay a few more days though, just to be safe. Her leg is injured pretty badly, so she might need a little help getting around her place once they discharge her." The explanation left her winded, as it was never easy to have coherent conversations in this kind of state.

He was silent for a minute. She heard him sigh, picturing his apologetic face. "I love you. Tell me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," she muttered softly. She kept the phone pressed up against her ear, listening to him breathe a moment. She knew he was waiting. She knew he was waiting for her to return the simple sentiment, but the three simple words were always too hard for her to form.

XXX

The kids had left as quickly as they had arrived.

Maura stood a bit apprehensively in the front hallway, not quite sure what to do with herself. She had abandoned her work after Tommy had left, too anxious to concentrate, and the arrival of her two children had been somewhat expected and almost a relief to the jarring events that had taken place that morning. Their brief appearance had been polite and somewhat distant, before they had dispersed, leaving Maura feeling useless once again.

She noticed Jenna's Louis Vuitton tote sitting by the door, simple, yet elegant, and she could not help but to smile at her daughter's refined taste. Cody's large pair of spare sneakers rested beside Jenna's bag, and Maura felt a hint of regret as she realized how much she missed the subtle clutter her children had always absentmindedly left scattered around the house.

She walked back into the kitchen, the box of Cheerios still open on the counter. As she placed the cereal back into the Lazy Susan, she grimaced as she realized just how low she was on sustainable food. However, her scowl quickly dissipated as she was overcome with a sudden sense of purpose.

She grabbed her purse and a sensible pair of flats from her bedroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror on her way out. She paused for a moment, assessing her appearance. She had changed into a pair of salmon colored pants and a loose fitting beige blouse - a simple, yet becoming outfit. She reached up to unpin her hair, letting her golden locks tumble against her shoulders. She was surprised to find her reflection smiling back at her.

The night was pleasantly warm as she left the house, and she was surprised by the sense of empowerment she felt as she inhaled the fresh air. She hummed softly to herself as she put the key into the ignition, her mind feeling clearer than it had in ages as she left the familiarity of her home.

The grocery store had been her destination, but she had somehow ended up in the hospital parking lot instead.

This fact startled her for a moment, as she sat with the car running for a good few minutes, reciting her mental grocery list to herself several times. She pursed her lips, a hint of frustration gathering in her throat, before she reached to remove the keys from the ignition. She let the suffocating silence consume her for a moment. Her eyes fell down to her hands, the golden band glowing softly in the dim moonlight.

She stepped out of the car.

Once inside the establishment, she found the information desk easily, her nails clacking nervously against the countertop as the receptionist checked her ID and directed her to the proper room. She held her breath, wishing that visiting hours weren't so flexible.

But moments later she found herself standing outside the room, cautiously peering around the frame of the door.

"She's asleep right now," the nurse had quite suddenly appeared behind her, badly startling her. "We just gave her a pretty hefty dose of morphine, so I'm not sure if she'll be waking up anytime soon. You're welcome to come in for a little if you'd still like to."

Maura nodded, clutching her purse tightly as she rigidly positioned her body in the chair facing Jane's bed. The nurse lingered for a moment. Maura offered her a forced smile. As the nurse took her leave, Maura visibly slumped in her seat, her eyes fixated on Jane's form.

She watched her. She watched her chest fall, counting the breaths, slow, steady, methodical. Comforting. The familiarity of the comfort startled her out of the feeling for a moment. She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes dancing toward Jane's face.

She had aged considerably, wrinkle creases evident by her eyes. There was a large gash above her left eyebrow, her lower lip was plump and swollen, and her cheeks were covered in threadlike scratches. It wasn't the Jane she was familiar with, yet, she found her as beautiful as the first time she had laid eyes on her.

She scooted closer to the bed, letting a gentle breath of air escape her lips. Her eyes found Jane's hand, limp against the sheets; she placed her own hand only a fraction of an inch away from it. She grew lost in the sound of Jane's breathing, accompanied by hypnotic beeping of the monitor. Her eyes fluttered shut.

She didn't fight it.