between your ribs
Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews I received for the first chapter of this fanfiction! They really made me smile. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this already.
Chapter Two:
September 21st, 2015
Considering Maura's trauma, the doctors recommend that only Constance goes in to see her. A familiar face – that phrase grates her. She is a familiar face. Her Ma had lived in Maura's guest house, for crying out loud.
Oh. Her Ma.
As Maura's doctor and mother disappear down the hallway, Jane fumbles for her cell in her blazer pocket. There had been no time to tell her that they'd found Maura. The call she'd received from Connecticut PD had come through at six in the morning, and the first person she'd called was Korsak, then Constance – the two of them, herself and Korsak, had driven down to Connecticut the minute they were both awake and dressed and she hasn't thought to contact anyone since.
"Jane? What's wrong?"
She must know. Both she and Korsak had taken the day from work, obviously, and news spreads fast in that fishbowl she calls work.
"They're all saying you found her, Janie, that you found Maura. The Lieutenant – "
"She's – she's been found," Jane says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just not by her. Someone else found Maura. "I'm at the hospital now, Ma, in Connecticut."
"Connecticut? Why would someone take Maura to Connecticut?"
"I don't know, Ma, they won't even let me see her," Jane growls. She wants to throw something at a wall. Or someone. Both will do.
"Who took her? Jane, who?"
"Ma, he… There's suspects. This family, the Matthew's but – they got away."
Her mother, for once, goes silent. Jane leans back in her seat and rests her head against the wall, trying to breathe deeply. She's always hated hospitals. The smell of them, their unnatural sterile state. She's spent too long in them. After her first encounter with Hoyt, and the shooting, and Hoyt hurting Maura, and losing the baby… She hates hospitals.
She just wants to take Maura home.
It almost startles her, when her mother speaks again, despite the softness to her tone. "And… how is Maura?"
Jane digs the heel of her palm into her right temple, rubbing lightly. For the most part, she hadn't understood the jargon that had spilled from the doctor's mouth – had been too afraid to ask what it all meant in case it all meant something bad. Constance had been white as a sheet afterwards, as the doctor had lead her to her daughter, and for a moment Jane had forgotten they were there because Maura was the victim. She'd almost turned, looking for her, expected Maura to translate all of the medical speak into English that she understood.
"A couple broken ribs. Malnourished. A bunch of superficial cuts and bruises, as well as past traumas. A vitamin deficiency, I think? But no… No sign of sexual assault."
"Thank God," it comes out as less than a whisper.
"Constance is with her now. They – they wanted her to see a familiar face. Not a… cop. Someone with a position of authority."
"I don't know how her mother kept herself together through all of this," Angela says. "Maura isn't mine…"
"But you think of her as a daughter," Jane surmises.
She picks at a thread coming loose around a button on her shirt. Of course her mother thinks of Maura as her daughter. It's not jealousy she feels so much as longing. To be certain of that connection. It's easy for her Ma. Maura had provided her with a home; attended family meals; signed up for classes with her. Maura stepped into her life as though she had always belonged there, and she had been accepted as such.
It's different. For Jane. She and Maura had butted heads at first. Their friendship had been slow to start, and uncertain in its middle. The woman had been unlike any other she'd ever befriended – out of her league, and she hadn't been afraid to admit it. Maura had been her constant, however, and that had been something she hadn't bargained on. Kept waiting for Maura to realise that Jane wasn't her kind of person. She hadn't.
It's different, because… just because. Because when Maura had disappeared, she'd lay in bed and imagine Maura right there beside her, breathing soft as she dreamed peacefully. Anywhere she went, there was a gaping hole in the shape of Maura in her life. It wasn't just meals, and classes, and lunches with TJ. It was late night movies and someone to talk to and the feeling of being loved and accepted by someone who chose to do so, not just through obligation.
It's different because she would have dreams about kissing her best friend's smile and would wake wondering if she were dead.
"She's our family, Jane."
The button falls away.
"Yeah… I know."
Fifty minutes pass, and Jane begins to wonder if she's simply become invisible. If the doctors and nurses that pass her think she's blended into the walls. It sure as Hell feels like it. And she's never really felt invisible before.
"Detective?"
Jane jolts to her feet instantly, finding Constance approaching her. Her heels click against the floor and she runs a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. Looking remarkably put together. For the first time ever, she sees the similarities between Maura and her mother.
"She's asleep now. She was barely lucid when they allowed me to see her, but I thought perhaps now would be the right time for you to come visit."
Jane nods, not trusting her voice, and follows Constance to Maura's hospital room. Of course, she'd seen her at the crime scene – but that was when Maura had people around her to hold her up. When action blurred around her and made focusing a dizzying task. She's not too sure if she's ready to see the sight of her best friend lying in a hospital bed, but there never is a right time for the things that hurt you.
The first thing she notices when she steps inside the room is the lack of light. The blinds are closed, overhead lights off, and her eyes blink against the sudden change, adjusting.
"She didn't like it," Constance says, as if reading her thoughts. "She's lived for nine months without sunlight. It'll take time for her to adjust."
As Constance closes the door behind her, Jane takes two hesitant steps into the room. Maura lays on the bed with tubes she doesn't understand the use of coming from her nose, arms and hands. Skin almost as pale as the sheets she's laying on, and Jane can't help it, is by her side in an instant and reaching for one of her hands – gently. The skin feels paper thin, and it's the first time that she's ever thought of Maura as something breakable.
"She's so small."
She doesn't realise she's said the words until they come tumbling out. Hoarse and quiet. Constance hums in response, leaning against the closed door.
"In a few days, when she's strong enough, they'll transfer her to a clinic in Boston. I've already arranged it – they'll plan her diet so that she'll be a healthy weight again. And treat her vitamin deficiency. The ribs, however, will simply take time."
Jane holds her breath. "And the... past traumas?"
Constance sits on one of the chairs beside Maura's bed, opposite Jane. Her expression remains neutral when she replies. "Are past traumas. Doctors assure me they'll leave no physical repercussions. The mental ramifications are another matter entirely. I've arranged for her to begin seeing a psychologist alongside her physical treatment back in Boston."
Slowly, Jane sits on the chair behind her, dragging it closer to Maura. She keeps Maura's hand in her own, allows her free hand to drift up her forearm, fingertips ghosting against the skin. Real. Maura is real. Not a figment of her imagination, no cruel trick in a dream. Maura. Hurt, and a little damaged, but real. She presses her lips together to stop a sob from ripping free.
"How do you do it?" She asks Constance, looking up at her accusingly. "Handle these facts so… so…"
"Please don't make the mistake of thinking that I don't love my daughter, Detective."
Jane scoffs. "You weren't there. You didn't save her."
"Neither did you. But the both of us are here now, aren't we?"
Indignation rises hot in Jane's lungs, spilling from her mouth.
"I looked for her. You buried your head in the sand and waited for it all to be over."
"I suspect, Detective, that you and I are the same in that way."
Jane growls low in her chest, looking back down at Maura. Her chest rises and falls slowly. Carefully. As if she's afraid of taking up too much space.
Maura's wrist. She wraps her hand around it easily. Too easily. It's too small, too reedy – Maura's cheeks are hollow, the spaces beneath her eyes carved deep. Her eyes linger once again on the bruises wrapped like a scarf around Maura's neck. Brittle and bright.
This is what she had been afraid of. Finding Maura like this, less than whole. She had feared this more than her death.
She falls asleep in the chair, eventually. Sometime in the afternoon, when her stomach is rumbling, and it only just occurs to her that she hasn't had anything but the coffee Constance had bought from the cafeteria.
Maura wakes in the evening, two hours after, hand stiffening in hers. Constance isn't in the room, Jane realises, as the movement pulls her from her slumber, but wastes no time thinking about it. Instead, she leans forward, closer to Maura as her eyelashes flutter. Her neck protests in pain from the way she'd slept, but she ignores it, anticipating Maura's smile.
"Hey sleepyhead," she murmurs when Maura's eyes finally open. "You had me real worried there."
Maura's eyes lock on hers and stare blankly. "I'm sorry," she says, but it is wide and void, making Jane frown.
"Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. God, I'm just so glad that you're alive. It's been so long."
Maura wets her lips. "It has?"
"You don't – " she hesitates, glancing over at the door and praying for Constance to appear. "You don't know? Your mom didn't tell you?"
Maura shakes her head minutely. Her greasy hair rustles against the pillows. "No."
Jane pauses, speechless for a moment. She doesn't even know. She doesn't know how long she's been missing, how long she'd been held captive and hurt and punished and God knows what else. Jane has felt every single day excruciatingly. Nine and a half months of her life had passed in slow motion. The wheels had kept spinning, but she had been thrown off course.
"Nine and a half months," she tells her, watching her closely. "Two hundred and twenty two days. That's how long you've been gone."
She waits for the dam to break. Anticipates folding Maura into her arms and protecting the soft mass of her in ways she hasn't been able to for so long.
Maura blinks. "Okay."
Jane's jaw almost drops. "Just… Okay? That's all you've got to say?"
Maura's lower lip trembles. "What do you want me to say?"
"What do I – God, Maura, I don't know. I don't know, okay?"
Maura watches her, beginning to tremble, and Jane softens for her instantly. Curls her hand around Maura's hand again, another at her cheek, even as she flinches beneath her touch. The way Maura is watching her, staring at her, calculating each of her movements. Like a deer in headlights, trapped. It makes her think that Maura is waiting for her to hurt her. Waiting for punishment.
"I'm sorry. I'm not mad. I just don't know what to do."
Her friend says nothing. Does not relax. Slowly, Jane withdraws her touch, and she watches as Maura's shoulders drop, relieved. Oh. Contact.
She doesn't like… contact.
"Do you want me to call a nurse? A doctor? Or – they said you were malnourished, they should probably bring you food, right?"
Maura stares at her like she is a trap. "Do I… want you to?"
"Yeah, Maur. You probably want food, right? Water?"
Maura's breathing grows rapid, eyes darting around the dark room as the machines monitoring her begin to bleep loudly. The sound makes her startle, and then raises her own hand to lay over her bandaged ribs. Jane aches to reach out, comfort her, prevent her from hurting herself even more, but she keeps her hands curled as fists in her lap.
"I don't understand. Where's Mr Matthews?" Maura asks, high pitched and breathless.
Jane frowns. "Maur, we – the narcotics unit rescued you from him. Remember? You're safe now. I promise. He can't get to you here, you're in the hospital, there's guards stationed right outside your door."
"Safe?" She repeats, small.
Nurses bustle in then, attending to Maura and the cause of her distress. When one of them touches her, Maura screams, raw and feral and Jane is on her feet, reaching for her, croaking her name. But another nurse pushes her out the way, sending her stumbling and she watches in horror as Maura tries to fight them. They fiddle with her IV, another one producing a needle and at the sight of it Maura wrenches her body up and away from the bed. The only thing that stops Jane from going to her is the nurse trying to push her out of the door.
"No, no!" Maura cries as they administer the sedative, two of them holding her down as tears begin to tumble down her cheeks. Jane feels them rising in her own eyes. "Jane!"
"Maura," she wants it to be fierce, but her voice is afraid of the person it's reaching out to.
"Ma'am," the nurse huffs, holding her back as she once again tries to step closer to Maura. "Ma'am, please, we need space."
Jane stumbles backwards, out of the room, catching one last glimpse of Maura struggling before the door slams in her face.
She presses the skin of her palm to her mouth, and cries for the first time in two hundred and twenty one days.
TBC