When Maura awoke in the middle of the night, Jane was gone.

Maura padded into the living room, heart in her throat.

For good measure she checked the bathroom. The kitchen.

Empty.

Empty, empty, empty.

It was useless.

Jane was gone.

She had promised not to let go.

Promised.

But she had run.

Left her own apartment in the middle of the night just to get away from Maura.

From her love.

Maura was so overcome by visceral emotions that she went entirely numb in seconds. The pain was too much to process, and like a victim of physical trauma she simply went into shock.

Her body and brain couldn't assimilate the pain shooting through her, lighting every nerve ending aflame, so her body just shut down.

Reduced her to basic functioning, basic thought.

She had to flee.

Run.

Go.

First, and foremost, she had to leave Jane's apartment and never come back.

She found her purse and departed Jane's apartment with heavy steps. Outside, the air bit at her harshly, and if she'd been thinking rationally, or thinking at all, she would have considered borrowing a coat.

As it was, her ears and nose went numb within minutes. Her fingers trembled. The cold seemed to seep straight into her bones and settle there.

The streets were empty, not a cab in sight, so she set about walking home. It was only a matter of miles but the distance felt interminable. Trudging along in Angela's rain boots, feeling in her limbs further eluding her with each minute that passed, Maura wondered how she would ever face Jane now.

She would have to request a transfer. Maybe leave BPD. Perhaps even leave Boston.

Maura could live with not having her love returned. She had done it before. But she would never survive having to hide it, to pretend, day in and day out for the rest of her life, that it didn't exist.

She was the world's worst liar, after all. And the pain would be too much to bear.

So she'd leave.

Manhattan. Los Angeles. D.C.

She would start over.

Learn how to be alone again.

It was the only option.

Jane had abandoned her.

Left her.

Given up.

Just like everyone else.

She had promised she wouldn't let go.

Promised.

And Maura, foolishly, had believed her.

She had believed.

Because if anyone deserved her trust, her hope, her faith… it was Jane.

Right?

No one else had ever worked so hard, worked at all really, to penetrate Maura's defenses. No one else had cared enough to see past her social awkwardness, to embrace the woman under her quirky exterior.

No one else had made her feel human.

Jane had. And she'd made it seem so easy.

Now, it all seemed so… false.

How could Maura have been so wrong?

She'd never put much faith in people, before. Never put much stock in an individual human being's capacity to surprise her, to fulfill her.

People were weak, fallible, selfish, unpredictable…

They were biologically predisposed to hurt each other, to lie, to cheat, to compete, to err.

Why would she rely on something like that?

Even with good intentions, people couldn't be trusted to overcome their baser instincts.

Her parents were proof of that.

Trying to do something honorable when it went against your very nature didn't make you brave or strong or different than everyone else. It just made you vulnerable to failure.

Now, more than ever, she was reminded of that.

Oh god.

She'd never make it home.

She was too tired.

Sitting on the curb, Maura buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She cried for endless minutes, alone and freezing on the side of the road.

She had heard the expression, all time low, but it hadn't been clear what was meant.

She knew now.

This was rock bottom.

A car pulled up beside her and Maura felt fear tighten the pit of her stomach. She was in an incredibly vulnerable position for attack. It was foolish to allow herself to fall apart like this, in the middle of the night, on a deserted street…

"Excuse me?" a young, tentative female voice greeted her from inside the car. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Maura sobbed. "Thank you."

The driver stepped out slowly, as if afraid she might scare Maura away.

"Can I call someone for you?" she offered. "Or get you a cab or something?"

"I'm really alright," Maura managed to stop crying momentarily. She looked up into wide, compassionate blue eyes. "But thank you."

"I can't just leave you here," the girl protested. "You'll freeze to death. Please, I could give you a ride into town. There's a 24 hour shelter…"

"I'm not homeless," Maura sniffed. "I'm just having a rather rough evening."

"I didn't mean to imply," the girl blushed. "Sorry. I just don't want to leave you out here. It's not safe."

Maura was too tired to argue. Was too tired even to weigh the rationality of getting in a car with this stranger.

"I don't live too far from here," she admitted. "Would you give me a ride home?"

"Yeah," came the reply. A small smile graced her delicate features as she offered her hand to help Maura up. "Sure, no problem."

Maura accepted the hand, sliding into the passenger seat. The girl resumed her place behind the wheel and looked over at Maura expectantly.

"I'm Stephanie," she smiled. "Where to?"

"I'm Maura," she returned, rattling off her address.

They rode in silence through the wintry, Boston streets. It was only a matter of minutes before they were outside Maura's home.

"Look," Stephanie hedged. "I'm sure this is none of my business, and it's probably way out of line but… this is my phone number. If you need a friend, you know, someone to talk to- you can call me. I'm pretty normal."

Maura couldn't manage a fake smile but she took the card.

"I'm Maura," she whispered. "Thank you for the ride."

"You're sure that you'll be ok?"

"No," Maura stepped out of the car. "But I don't really have a choice."

"There's always a choice," Stephanie countered softly. "People always do what they want to do. Everything else is just an excuse."

Wordlessly, Maura entered her home.

She was too tired to turn on lights, to lock the door behind herself.

Too tired to care.

She crawled into bed, wrapping the blankets around herself like a protective cocoon and sobbed until a merciful, restless sleep overtook her.

The reprieve didn't last long, and she was awake as the morning sun peeked into her bedroom.

The idea of leaving her bed was unfathomable.

If not for the insistence of her bladder, she might never have gotten up. As it was, she practically crawled into the bathroom. Before returning to the safety of her bed, she appraised herself in the mirror.

She looked as hollow as she felt.

Like someone had reached inside her and turned out the light.

Empty.

Vacant, listless nothingness reflected back at her.

She crawled back into bed.

An absent part of her mind wondered if her heart was even beating. She took her own pulse, just to be sure.

It didn't comfort her at all.

Stephanie's words rang in her head.

There's always a choice.

Maura's chest tightened.

There had been a choice, but Jane had chosen to run.

She had chosen anyone else but Maura.

Not Maura.

And why shouldn't she?

Maura was awkward and socially inept and she talked too much and misread body language and didn't know anything about sports or beer or the bro code. She had spent countless hours researching the things Jane liked in order to be a part of the other woman's life but it was difficult.

So much of Jane was about instinct, guessing, things Maura couldn't research or fake.

It was no wonder Jane wouldn't want to love someone like her.

But…

Maura had thought she saw something in Jane's eyes.

For the past few weeks, she'd tried to be as clinical as possible when evaluating Jane's expressions, body language.

There was something there- she was sure of it.

Jane's body exhibited signs it was dispersing monoamines when in Maura's presence. The dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin combination produced shortness of breath and sweating. Her body turned towards Maura when they spoke. Her pupils dilated when she looked at Maura. Her pulse raced.

The body didn't lie.

Which meant the only conclusion to be drawn was mind over matter.

Jane was attracted to her but choosing not to pursue her.

Which meant to Jane, Maura wasn't enough.

Not enough.

It was something she was used to.

People were always leaving her, abandoning her, because she wasn't enough.

But Jane…

She never thought Jane would be one of those people.

She would have bet her car, her career, her life that Jane would not abandon her.

How foolish that would have been.

As it was, she'd bet her heart and she'd lost.

Now she had to live with the consequences.

Only she didn't know how.

How did one live with the consequences of putting all their stock in a single person and finding out they'd made a one-sided trade?

She needed to talk to someone, to ask the questions and receive some answers, but she had no one to turn to.

Normally it was Jane who filled in the gaps in her understanding, who bridged the chasm between Maura's intellect and the realities of the world.

Who would do that for her now?

Maura startled when the front door opened. Her heart clenched, her entire body froze.

No.

No.

"Maura?" Angela's voice rang out.

Angela?

"In here," Maura called back, surprised by how rasping and needy her voice sounded.

A minute later Angela was poking her head into the room.

"Oh, sweetie," she cooed. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Maura sniffed, trying to hold back tears.

"Maura," Angela sat on the bed, stroking a hand through Maura's hair.

Maura shuddered, allowed her tears to fall.

"Jane hates me," she exclaimed.

"No," Angela soothed. "She doesn't. She loves you, Maura."

"She left me," Maura protested. "She promised and then she left."

Angela's other hand found Maura's, clutching it tightly.

"I know," Angela admitted quietly. "She came to see me."

Maura's brow furrowed.

"In the middle of the night," Angela continued.

Maura tried to assimilate this information.

Jane had run… to her mother?

"She's scared, Maura."

"What?" Maura looked up at Angela's face. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" Angela replied.

"I don't know," Maura sighed. "I don't understand this at all."

"You've been in love before, Maura," Angela challenged. "Haven't you?"

"Not like this," Maura whispered. "Maybe not at all. If this is what love feels like then this is the first time I've ever been in love."

Angela's hand reflexively tightened around Maura's.

"Why doesn't Jane want me?" she added softly.

"Oh, Maura," Angela's voice wavered. "Sweetie that's not… that's not the problem."

"She left," Maura protested, sniffling. "And why shouldn't she? She could have so much more."

"Hey," Angela's voice was sharp. "Stop that. You are wonderful and Jane would be lucky to have you. Anyone would. Did it occur to you that she might think she's not good enough?"

"What?" Maura asked. "Why would she think that? Jane is amazing. I've never met anyone like her."

"Self-worth has never been her strong point," Angela shrugged. "She's confident when it comes to everything but her heart. She keeps that locked up for some reason. The loves in her life haven't fought very hard for her. But Maura, honey, you're the one who broke through."

"She left," Maura repeated hoarsely. "I asked her not to, but she did."

"She didn't leave," Angela refuted. "She… went temporarily insane."

"It ends the same," Maura breathed. "Maura Isles, alone."

"You can't forgive her?" Angela sounded surprised, hurt.

"She doesn't want my forgiveness," Maura responded. "She wants my friendship. But I don't know how to give her that without giving her my love as well. They're one and the same, it seems, and I don't know how to fix that."

"You have to talk to her," Angela insisted. "You have to be honest with her. She's too afraid to jump to any conclusions. You have to say, Jane, I'm in love with you. Or she won't get it. My daughter is smart but she's also so dense."

"I said I love you," Maura protested. "It didn't matter."

"That's not the same thing," Angela urged softly. "And I think you know that. You've been saying I love you practically since the day you met. This is more than that, and if you want her to realize there is a difference you'll have to point it out."

"What if she still says no?" Maura's voice was full of fear. Terror.

"She won't," Angela assured her.

"But what if she does," Maura replied. "What will I do?"

"Then you'll know," Angela sighed. "Once and for all. And I'll know to kick her butt to kingdom come."

"You don't have to do this," Maura whispered.

"Do what?" Angela wiped a lingering tear from Maura's cheek.

"Come here," Maura said. "Do this."

Angela tilted Maura's chin up, forcing her to make eye contact.

"Maura Isles," she began, her voice firm. "No matter what happens, no matter what, I love you. I may not be your mother, and you may not really consider me a friend, but you're like a daughter to me. A friend. I will always be here for you to talk to or cry with or laugh with. I will always be here for you, regardless."

Tears welled in Maura's eyes again, spilling over. She sat up and embraced Angela tightly.

"Thank you," she breathed. "I love you."

"I love you too," Angela's watery voice replied. "You're a very special woman. I'm blessed to have you. We all are."

Maura nodded unsurely against Angela's shoulder.

"Now," Angela pulled back. "Come to the kitchen. I'll make you something to eat."

Maura almost protested, almost climbed back under the covers to hide.

But she couldn't hide forever.

Not when there was hope, however fleeting and miniscule.

There's always a choice.