Author Note: Well, here we are, the penultimate chapter. Work has been a little stressful this week, which is why it's taken me so long to get this done. I hope I'll be quicker with the final chapter, and with the next chapter of Bartender. I just don't have as much down time right now. I can't believe this one is nearly over.
Nearly nine hours of travelling was enough to leave Maura exhausted and somewhat regretful. Whilst she'd seen Frankie a few days before her departure, she wished she'd visited one more time. Though the act of sharing Jane's bed had been a farewell she enjoyed, the fight afterwards, and the fallout later, made her heart ache. There were too many 'what ifs' running through her mind to appease her, and what sleep she had on the plane was fraught. She regretting taking checked baggage when she landed on the other side. Though it was only early evening, she was still three hours ahead, and all she wanted to do was crash.
"I'm Doctor Isles," she said, approaching a man in a suit with a sign. He grunted a greeting and she followed him towards the parking lot.
She climbed into the back of the black SUV and wondered what sort of accommodation the university had provided for her. The weather was muggy. She pulled her sweater over her head and laid it over her purse in the back of the vehicle.
"You here for something special?" the driver asked.
"Teaching," she said.
He must have picked up on her desire for silence, because he didn't ask any more questions. She rested her head against the window and stared out across the highway. The journey dragged on. The final step to her destination.
They drove down a road with trees and grass on both sides. She felt a warmth in her heart as she thought about walking around the leafy campus. Turning right, they came to a street with modest houses, with ample space surrounding them.
The SUV stopped and Maura stared at the house. The information stated that there was a house, with separate living quarters for one person on the side, which was where she was staying. She dragged her suitcase down the driveway and towards the side entrance.
She unlocked the door to her new home. It was small, modestly decorated, and a bit bare. But she anticipated she would probably put her own stamp on it eventually. She sunk into the couch. It was comfortable, and before she could stop herself, her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.
x
Everything felt hopeless. There was nothing left. After her mother died, and Korsak was mad at her, and Frankie was comatose, all she had left was Maura, and now she had nothing. She stood on the sidewalk outside Korsak's home for a long time. The cool night air was rolling in by the time she finally headed back to her home.
The house.
It was never a home. The reason she was there at all was because she fucked everything up and ended up homeless. If only she'd know then what she knew now, that her mother and Kiki would end up dead because of it.
She strolled down the street towards Maura's. That was home. The only home she had ever wanted, the only home she didn't know she needed at first.
The front door was locked, and the set of keys she had were at the house down the street. She jimmied the lock on the gate and took the spare key to the guest house out of its hiding place.
Everything had been boxed up. Dust sheets covered the furniture. The ghost of her mother lingered in the air, a life barely lived within those four walls. A life taken away too soon.
She wished, if only a little, that she'd appreciated her mother more when she was alive. All those mornings she went to Maura's on the way to work and she didn't even stop by to say good morning to her mother. All those long nights sat drinking beer and eating fine cuisine while her mother stayed in the guest house. Any time she came near, Jane would get annoyed, or frustrated, and she'd leave them alone.
Why hadn't she invited her to join them just once?
She returned the key and retrieved the back door key instead, letting herself into the main house. Maura had left suddenly, but her house looked like she still lived there. Nothing had moved, excepting her laptop, her favourite coffee mug, and a photo from the bookcase.
She stood in the dark. So much had changed, irreparably so. Yet now that Maura had gone, it felt like nothing would ever be the same again.
x
At four in the morning, Maura lay wide awake. Sometime in the night she'd woken, got changed and climbed into the most comfortable bed she had felt in a long while. Realistically, the mattress was lumpy and the pillow not deep enough, but she was exhausted. It was still dark out, but it didn't trick her body into thinking she needed to sleep some more.
She got out of bed and wandered back into the kitchen area. She knew she hadn't purchased any food, and felt a sense of gratefulness at the bread, butter, croissants, jelly, eggs, milk, and coffee that was in a basket on the sideboard.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she made herself a pot of fresh coffee, the tears streaming down her cheeks like rivers forging their way through harsh landscapes. She was mentally exhausted, and no amount of sleep was going to make her feel better. But a toasted croissant with jelly was enough to bring her some hope that maybe things were going to be okay.
By seven, she'd washed, dressed and felt vaguely human once more. She was in the process of hooking her laptop up to the wifi when a knock at the door startled her. On the other side of the door, a man with short greying black hair and glasses smiled at her.
"Sorry to call on you so early," he said, his southern drawl unfamiliar to her ears. "I could hear the television through the wall."
"Oh." Maura narrowed her eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You didn't," he said, his smile never faltering. "I wanted to introduce myself before I head out, since we're gonna be neighbours. I'm Daniel Hoarcross."
"Doctor Maura Isles," she said, taking his outstretched hand. "It's nice to meet you."
"If you need anything, just knock. I've been here for seven years, so know all there is to know about anything you might have a question about."
"Thank you," Maura said, returning his smile. "That's very kind of you."
"I'll let you get settled in," he said, nodding his head and turning away.
Maura closed the door behind him and stared around at her empty home. She had many questions, none of which she much cared for the answer to. A second knock startled her again. She turned around and tugged open the door, a little frustrated at the second imposition from her new neighbour.
The last person she expected to see on the other side of the door was Jane.
"You got a bandage?" she asked, her voice hoarse and her fingers covered in a splattering of blood.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. She stared down at the blood and rushed into the kitchen. She expected Jane to follow, but once she'd retrieved the travel sized first aid kit she carried with her, she found Jane stood on the doorstep.
"I thought it'd be alright, it was for a while, but now it's not," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
"What happened?" Maura asked, peeling Jane's fingers away from the wound, she clamped her own around it and tugged Jane into the house. "You need to apply pressure and hold your arm up in the air."
Jane perched on the edge of a chair by the door. "I didn't mean to do it."
"I don't know if I have everything I'll need," Maura said. "You should have gone to the hospital."
"And miss my flight?"
"Yes."
She worked in silence, cleaning and dressing the wound. Blood seeped through the material, so she applied an additional layer.
"Don't lower your hand," she said. "Not until the bleeding lessens. Give me five minutes and I'll find out where the nearest hospital is."
Jane shook her head, tears skirted down her face. "No. Maura. I don't need a hospital."
"Yes, you do," Maura said, pulling a dinging chair towards the edge of the seat and sitting opposite Jane. She trailed her fingers across Jane's injured arm. "You're hurt."
Jane shrugged. "What's new?"
"What did you do?"
Further tears flooded down her face. Jane swiped the back of her hands across her eyelids. "I didn't know what to do without you. I don't know how to get through this."
"You can't just fly across the country."
"I had to."
"Why?"
Jane cupped her face and leaned forward. Her shoulders shook violently. "I can't do this without you. I've lost so much. I don't know how to get through it without you."
"Jane," Maura whispered, her voice broken under the strain of her own tears. "Please don't do this. I can't fix you."
"I know." Jane's voice came out louder, and more abrupt than she expected. "I'm lost, I'm broken, I don't know how I can live without my family. Without you. I fucked it all up. I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to forget, pushing it all aside, but I just made it worse. I hurt you, and I pushed you away, and I'll never forgive myself for that. I want to do better, to be a better person, but I don't know how to do that without you."
Maura's heart ached, her throat felt dry and underused. She swallowed, sandpaper itched the back of her mouth. She leaned forward and scooped Jane into her arms, holding her tight.
"That's all I wanted from you," Maura said, cupping her cheek. She stroked tears from her eyes. "I needed you to be honest about how you're feeling, and stop hiding behind intimacy."
"I'll be honest," Jane said, closing her eyes and leaning her head against Maura's hand. "I won't do that again."
"I need you to want to do this, to want to be better, to live not just survive." Maura gripped her hand tightly. "I can't do this alone. I can't hold you up when all you want to do is fall down. You need to support yourself."
"I can. I will."
Maura leaned her head forward; fresh tears fell from her eyes. "I can't come home yet. I made a promise to the university. Our agreement was for three months, with the possibility of continuation."
Jane stared at her, her eyes tugged together. "It was never forever?"
Maura shrugged. "Not definitely. I needed a break. There's a possibility about a long term contract in the fall."
"I think I need a hospital," Jane said, holding out her wrist, blood had already reached the outer layer of the bandage. "It was stupid; I just wanted to feel pain."
"It wasn't stupid," Maura said, holding her wrist out between them. She got a clean towel and wrapped it tightly around the wound. "I'll see if my neighbour can give me the number for a cab company."
x
They sat in the waiting area of the hospital. Jane's arm freshly stitched and bandaged up. She absentmindedly stroked the skin on her arm as Maura finished filling out her paperwork.
"I'm sorry," Jane said, reaching her other hand out and running her fingers across Maura's wrist. "I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have done any of this."
"I'm glad you did," Maura said. "Not your wrist. Come, I mean. I didn't want to leave it like that; I didn't want to leave you. I needed you to understand that I couldn't be your band aid."
"I get it." Jane breathed in deeply.
"If I come home in three months, Jane, it can't be the same."
For the first time since she left Boston, Jane felt a sense of hope. "It won't be."
"I know this is the hardest battle you've ever had to face," Maura said, gripping her hand. "I'm here, Jane. I've been here for you since the moment it happened. I need you to be here too."
"I'm here." Jane stared into her eyes. "I'm here for you. I put myself first and I forgot that you were hurting, but I won't do that anymore. I promise."
Pulling her back into her arms, Maura held her close. She breathed in the scent of Jane's skin; the additional layer of sweat she imagined appeared overnight. She squeezed her tightly and nuzzled her face against her neck.
"Will you be okay for three months without me?"
Jane sighed and sat back in her seat. "I dunno."
"I still need a break. I can't get out of my contract. I don't want to."
"I know." She stared down at the floor. Her chest ached, but the thought of Maura staying there forever felt even more untenable than for three months. "I should have given you a break a long time ago."
"Why don't you stay for a couple of weeks?" Maura asked.
Jane chewed on her bottom lip. "All I brought with me is…well, me."
Laughter slipped out of her mouth before she could control it. "Oh Jane."
"I didn't really plan this." Jane stared at her, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. "I needed to see you, to explain, to…I needed to tell you that I love you."
She reached out and twisted her fingers around Maura's. Maura stared at their hands, intertwined. She cleared her throat and tugged her hand away. "I can't."
"Oh."
"Not right now. Everything that's happened, Jane, it's too much." Maura sighed. "Maybe in three months. Maybe when we've had some space."
Breathing deeply, Jane sat a little taller. She brushed fresh tears aside. "I won't stay."
"You don't need to go straight away," Maura said.
Smiling, Jane cupped her cheek and leaned in. She brushed her lips against Maura's. When Maura didn't resist, her smile grew wider. "Yes, I do. You're right. Everything you've said has been right. We need a break. I need time to sort my head out. If I stay, it'll confuse things."
"Are you sure?"
Jane leaned in and kissed her again. "I'm sure. Don't go back on what you need just because I'm here. I came to tell you that I need you in my life, now I've done that, I can go back to Boston and wait for you to come home."
