Author's Note: If you've been following this story, you know the drill by now - dark. Swear words abound. Trust me. They're deserved.
CHAPTER FIVE: NO MORE.
"I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness." – Lauren DeStefano, Fever
Jane awoke with a start, sitting up in the uncomfortable hospital bed – and immediately curled into herself, pain shooting through her abdomen. "Damn it," she grimaced through clenched teeth. "You just got shot, you idiot."
More carefully this time, she unfurled, looking around the private room. It was empty. Completely silent. She slowly brought her legs over the side of the bed, and eased herself onto her feet. Hissing, she stayed still, propped against the bed lightly, until the pain subsided slightly. Leaning heavily on her IV stand, she advanced slowly towards the hallway.
Her door ajar, she looked out into the hallway. While beds and equipment lingered the hallway, there was no sign of life. The hospital was deadly silent, without the constant hums of machines and footsteps of doctors and nurses. Her nerves tingled. This was not right.
She advanced two steps into the hallway, determined to figure out where everyone was, before she heard a voice – Maura's voice – calling for Jane from behind her, inside the room she had just left. The tone was frightened, concerned, and Jane wheeled around, walking as quickly as she could manage.
Her best friend stood beside the window, staring at her. "Maura."
"Jane, please." Pleading.
Why was she pleading? "Maura, what's going on?"
A flash of reflected light alerted Jane to the scalpel pressing against Maura's neck, and she looked behind her friend. She couldn't see anything other than the faint outline of a man, but she could figure out well enough who it was from his choice of weapon. "Hoyt, you motherfucker."
"Come on, Janie." Jane shivered at the voice that so frequently tormented her nightmares. "Go back to bed." The tone was gravely, self-assured, laced with distain. "You don't want to get hurt."
For a moment, the world stood still, before she launched into action, lunging towards Hoyt, growling. "Let her GO!" She landed a punch before she felt invisible hands grab her arms, pulling her back. She struggled to get free, and as she thrashed, she felt the tear of skin and froze, pain flooding through her body. She couldn't move. She wanted to move, but she couldn't. The pain was overwhelming. Looking down, blood was staining the hospital gown that hung from her body. Jane looked up to find Maura, to apologize, when reality flooded in. Tommy and Korsak held onto her arms, Frankie nursed his eye, and Maura – Maura was staring at her, her face terrified. Immediately she sagged, trying to figure out what had just happened. A doctor tentatively approached, carefully loading his weapon of choice – a needle.
She felt the sharp sting as it entered her arm, and before she lost her vision, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
When she awoke the next time, she was bound to the bed. Looking around, she saw she was back in the precinct's morgue, her wrists tied to the cold metal table. Turning her head ever so slightly, she saw Marino, his back turned to her, bent over a gun, loading it slowly. Silently, she tested the binds, and twisted, turned her arms until she was just almost free. With an exclaimed "shit", her thumb broke, Marino wheeled around – and through the haze of pain, he morphed into Frost.
"Jane!" He hit the call button immediately. "Jesus, did you just break your thumb? I told them the restraints were a bad call." He shook his head. "Doctors."
Immediately it became clear. Doctors. And their pain medicine – all it ever did was exacerbated her dreams, caused them to blend with reality. She had to shut this down. Jane locked eyes with her partner. "Frost. Tell them not to give me any more fucking medicine. I'm done with this shit." A clicking sound distracted her, and she turned to the source. A morphine pump. Damn it. "Frost, I mean it." She felt her conscious slipping. "No more fucking medicine. Get me off of this shit."
He nodded. "I'll try my best, Jane."
Her eyes slipped close.
Sharp pain radiated through her chest, a steady beat, and FUCK, she thought, as she felt a rib break. "Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty."
Her head was tilted back, and air was pushed into her lungs forcefully, twice, before the compressions started again. Someone yelled out, "Where are those respiratory therapists?" and another announced the arrival of the crash chart. "Charge."
Her eyes flew open. Oh god no. Tell them not to charge. Don't charge don't charge don't charge don't. She could see the doctor, pads in hand, and he nodded to the tech doing compressions. "Clear," he announced as the tech backed away from her. Jane tried to scream no, tried to wave her hands, do anything to stop this, but she couldn't move, and the paddles landed on her chest and…
She'd never felt anything like that – a combination of heart stopping and heart jolting, pain radiating through and stabbing inwards, pain that wouldn't let her out of its grip, kept reappearing in a new place, flooding, clenching. And she wanted to cry out, to express the pain, but it was bundled up and somehow that made it worse. "Resume compressions," oh god no, and the broken rib stabbed against her skin with every movement but she couldn't say anything, couldn't do anything, just endured.
Hurts, doesn't it? The voice flooded her mind, and she wasn't sure if it was spoken, or it was always there. Better you than anyone else. The tube slid down her throat as they established a more consistent airway. She wanted to gag, to pull it out, the edges of the opening scraping against her lungs, but she couldn't. I bet I can get you to beg for someone else to take your place. No!She thought, and someone else's laughter sounded through her brain. No. I can take it. She had to.Can you though? And a second shock was delivered, the pain accompanied by whispered threats from this unseen enemy.
Her eyes slid shut, and she prayed. Don't have anyone else take my place. But please. Let it stop. Please, just let it stop. When she opened her eyes again, the pain was blissfully gone, no v-tach ever having occurred. It was all just a medication-induced dream. Silent tears, though, leaked from her eyes, shivers trembled throughout her body. Her Ma's nervous hands twisted through her hair, Maura held one of her hands – and a doctor was about to insert a needle into the IV.
"No." The doctor turned, startled by his patient's voice. "You're not giving me any more of that shit."
"Janie! Language. The doctor's just trying to help you. He knows what he's doing." Ma admonished.
"No, he doesn't." Turning to the doctor, she spoke, slowly but authoritatively. "You can help me by not giving me any more of that stuff. By my count, I've ripped my stitches, punched my brother, broken my thumb, terrified the people closest to me, and endured more than a person should possibly endure – and that's the crap responsible for it. No more." The doctor opened his mouth to reply, but Jane cut in. "No. More. Either you treat me without the pain medications, or I check out AMA. Up to you."
Considering her, the doctor waited a beat, and then nodded. "Alright, Detective. Just Advil from here on out." He saw no need to sugarcoat the truth. "It's going to hurt."
Jane turned to Maura. "Hurting my family is worst." She squeezed Maura's hand lightly, and then looked up at her Ma. "I'm sorry." Ma just shook her head lightly, clearly frustrated that Jane wouldn't use the medicine. "Hey, tell Frankie that too."
Maura laughed lightly, and Jane turned towards her. "He's been telling everyone it came while apprehending a suspect."
A voice sounded out from the doorway. "It's an impressive black eye. No use in wasting the opportunity." Frankie moved closer, hands held up in a mock surrender. "Hey sis. No punching me again, okay? I like the sympathy sex as much as the next guy, but this still smarts."
Jane winked at him. "Makes you look handsome, though." At his smile, she continued. "Winning. Smashing."
From behind Frankie, Tommy called out. "Like a wimp!" Korsak rounded the corner behind him, clapping Frankie on the back. "Seriously. Your sister – after being SHOT – got the drop on you. You should be ashamed. Hey Jane."
"Hey Tommy, Korsak." Raising her voice, she called out. "Frost, you there too?"
Frost peeked in his head. "Hey partner."
"Hey." Her voice became more tired with the passing interaction. She needed to sleep, but she was desperate to hold onto the normalcy for the first time.
Maura squeezed her hand before speaking lightly. "I think Jane needs to sleep some."
Jane smiled gratefully. "Maura, I'm serious about the medicine. Make sure they don't give me anymore, okay?" When she got the affirmative nod, she turned to the boys, a smile on her face. "Guys, I'm about to go all Sleeping Beauty on you, but thanks. You know, for everything." They shuffled, emotions flickering, and all nodded, virtually simultaneously. Jane would have laughed, but she didn't think she had enough energy. She leaned into her mother's hand on her head, and let her eyes slide shut.
She was aware of Maura tracing patterns on her hand. Letters. "P-L-E-A-S-E-I-L…"
Jane faded into sleep without learning the rest of the letters. Her dream was simple – the alphabet, floating through her mind, arranging and rearranging itself in endless combinations of words, but never the ones she found herself hoping for: I love you.
Author's Note: This is the first chapter I hadn't planned out for this story when I started it. But I had a dream one night, and brainstormed on a run, and it insisted on being written. Just as the rest of this story is - it's slightly based on events I've experienced.
Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated. Thank you for sticking with me on this journey. This is the little dark story that could for me - a labour of love and pain.