between your ribs

So, so excited for your responses to this chapter

Chapter Sixteen:

January 20th, 2016.

Cursing under her breath, Jane swings her car into the parking garage of the building. The asshole honking at her – admittedly, erratic driving – passes her yelling as he does. She mutters a quick thanks to God when she finds the garage mostly empty and parks on the other side of the level to Maura. Accidentally, of course.

The receptionist greets her with a warm smile when she reaches the right level. It makes her skin crawl. She wants to find something condescending beneath the warm smile, something to justify the irritation that settles on the back of her neck and makes the hair there rise. There's nothing. Instead the warmth curves up to spread in the receptionist's eyes too as she points her in the direction of the correct office. She can feel those same eyes on her as she walks away and makes sure to hold her chin up high. If only she'd brought her badge to flash.

Maura isn't sitting in the small gathering of chairs outside of the office, which throws her for a moment. She looks around, rubbing at her scars absentmindedly, before taking a seat. This part of the building is almost peaceful, which she finds a little ironic. The walls are tall and painted a warm cream, not the fading kind that normally reminds her of fading paint on hospital walls. There are photographs of landscapes of the different seasons lined up in two by two rows, creating a cyclical effect. Even the waiting chairs shock her, a deep chocolate brown leather that she can sink into comfortably. She doesn't. She sits on the edge, occasionally running a hand across her tangled curls – she'd worn them up in a ponytail earlier and now they're a messy nightmare – with one knee bouncing erratically.

"Jane?"

She startles and automatically stands, finding herself face to face with Maura.

She swallows hard. Maura is beaming at her like she's just presented her with the ability to eternally prevent necrotizing fasciitis.

"You came," she murmurs, quietly, like two kids sharing secrets in the dark.

"I promised I would, didn't I?"

Maura tilts her head a little, considering this. "You did."

They settle in the chairs, Maura on the left of Jane, closest to the door. She looks perfectly at ease, something that make's Jane's heart tug uncomfortably. Maura's therapy isn't something they have spoken about in detail. It's been mentioned in passing, when she's leaving for appointments or attempting an assignment she had been set. How many times a week must she come here to try and sew the remaining pieces of herself back together?

Jane rubs her hands together as the palms sweat a little, staring down at the one imperfection she has managed to find in this place so far: a small smudge of mud imprinted on the carpet. She lifts one of her boots a little to find she's the one who walked it in here.

"How was work?"

"Good. Yeah, great, actually," Jane answers, finally allowing herself to lean back in the chair. "We closed the case today – you know, the one that's been active for about a week?"

"The asphyxiation case?"

Jane rolls her eyes, unable to prevent her laugh. "Yeah. That one."

Maura nods, lacing her hands together neatly in her lap, poised against one of her crossed knees. Her nails are freshly painted, a pale pink the same shade as her sleeveless blouse, soft in comparison to the light grey pencil skirt she's wearing. Jane's eyes are drawn up irresistibly, over the curves of Maura's exposed shoulders and the freckles that appear there, to her jawline, steady and sloping and interrupting the otherwise oval shape of her face, short and straight honey hair almost dusting her shoulders now. Eyes sharp and alert as they study the photographs on the wall opposite them.

She could spend hours watching her.

"How's it going? Setting up the charity?"

Maura ducks her head after a small smile. Maura had first approached her asking what she thought of the idea two weeks ago. A charity dedicated to building women's shelters for those who had been abused; aiding in rehabilitation; creating safe spaces; treating the mental health repercussions. At first she had been so floored and absolutely in awe of Maura Isles that she had been speechless, unable to say a damn thing. For that moment Maura had turned away, claiming it was probably a silly idea. Then she had turned back to see Jane crying.

"Good. Angela has been very helpful. I think we might be able to start fundraisers soon."

"That's good, Maura," she says, torn between reaching out to squeeze her hand and keeping her steady distance. She and Maura had reached their own equinox or sorts recently; Maura with her knowledge of Jane's love and Maura's own hidden on the back of a watch's face. It's been hard figuring out where the boundaries are. "I hope that – "

But beside them, the door has opened. Out steps Maura's therapist, Doctor Reyes, a surprisingly gangly woman with red hair falling in thick curls over her shoulders. Her light blue eyes land on Maura, prompting a smile.

"Maura, come on in."

Maura stands, clearing her throat before she gestures to Jane. Jane jumps to her feet a little too quickly, steadying herself by pressing a hand against Maura's back. She pretends not to hear her sharp intake of breath, but it spreads warmth in the pit of her stomach, low and pleasant. Her body has been thrumming with the thought of someday for weeks now. She's ready to burst.

"Actually, Doctor Reyes, I was wondering if my friend Jane could sit in on this session. I'm not quite sure how to… open up outside of them."

Reyes steps forward to shake Jane's hand, raising one eyebrow. "So you're Jane Rizzoli. It's nice to finally put a name to a face."

"You know me?"

Reyes laughs as Maura looks between the pair of them.

"Of course I do. And I must say, Maura's right."

"Yeah? About what?"

"You do have a handsome sort of beauty about you."

Promptly, Reyes turns on her heel and heads back into her office. Maura scuttles behind her, face beetroot red as Jane attempts to hug her smug grin. Maura thinks she's beautiful. In a… handsome sort of way. Well. She'll take it.

The interior of Reyes' office is far less fancy than the rest of the place. It has a homely quality about it, especially due to the pictures of what she can only assume is the Doctor's family sitting on the desk. An array of seat options await them – comfortable leather like the ones outside or desk chairs, the kind with wheels, with high backs; there's even a pile of bean bags in the corner. Maura takes one of the comfortable leather ones instantly, sitting opposite Doctor Reyes in the middle of the room rather than by the desk. Jane copies her and sits to her right. Reyes catches her glancing over at the bean bags.

"You'd be surprised at how many people prefer those. A little freer, I'd suppose."

Jane shrugs, looking around the lime green coloured room. A little like the colouring scheme Maura once had. She looks over at her, finding that she is still refusing to meet her eyes.

"So, Maura," Reyes says, shaking her curls away from her face. "Is there anything in particular that you wish to discuss today? Should we follow on from last week's session?"

Maura nods, remaining mute. Jane frowns.

"Before we start, Jane, do you need me to explain how these sessions normally work?"

Jane shakes her head, looking down at her hands.

"No, I've uh – I've had therapy before."

"You have?"

It's not Doctor Reyes that speaks. Jane looks to her left to find Maura staring at her curiously, her eyebrows tugging together a little. As if trying to find the last piece of the puzzle.

"I didn't know that."

"Not formally. Just. After Hoyt, for a little while, here and there. No big deal."

"Have you considered going back because of Maura's kidnapping?"

Doctor Reyes this time. Jane looks away from Maura.

"No."

She wants to leave it there, but Reyes leans forwards a little. Apparently she's captured her attention.

"Why not?"

Jane clears her throat. "The kidnapping didn't happen to me. It happened to Maura. So, you know, I've uh – gotta be strong for her."

She peeks at Maura out of the corner of her eye. The afternoon sun is pouring in through the windows beside her, kissing her skin and giving her an almost golden glow, her eyes hazy and soft. The way she's looking at her makes her heart pound. Eyes slowly travelling over every inch of the skin of her face, as if she's seeing something that she'd never noticed before.

"Therapy is not for the weak, Jane. Do you consider Maura weak?"

"No," her answer is immediate, quick, her head snapping round to glower at Reyes. "Never."

Reyes smiles. "Relax, Jane. I'm not accusing you of anything."

Jane leans back in her chair, rubbing a hand against her temples. This is going to be a long hour.

Reyes suggests they move on to a topic Maura had broached last week. Her incapacity to express her feelings. She pretends to stare at her boots when Reyes begins to unpick Maura's thoughts.

"What kind of feelings is it you feel you're unable to express, Maura? From our sessions together, I have seen you learn to open up due to the benefits of therapy. I feel that you've been making excellent progress. Perhaps you doubt yourself too much, focusing on the big steps instead of the hundreds of small ones you have made?"

Maura takes a shaky breath.

"Well, I – I suppose I am able to express my fears. My anxieties," she agrees. "But it's about Jane."

She swivels towards Maura, eyes wide. "Me?"

Maura blinks wetly. "Yes. You."

"Do you feel that this is a result of your PTSD, Maura, or have you felt this way throughout your friendship?"

"My PTSD."

Jane groans, shoving her face into her hands as she feels the tears spring to her eyes. She's not going to cry. She just needs to hide for a moment, so that neither of these women feel pity for her. Already she can feel her face flushing, reddening, with this deep and ingrained embarrassment. She's not allowed to be weak. Not anymore.

After a moment passes, she feels a gentle touch against one of her hands. Fingertips drifting against the back, over her left scar. Until those fingers creep beneath the space between them, pads soft against her palms, tugging her hands away from her face. Maura has pulled her chair a little closer, eyes soft like before when she brings her out of the darkness and back into this moment. What has she ever done to deserve someone like Maura Isles in her life?

"Jane?"

"It's my fault."

"What is?"

"All of this. All of it. Because I didn't save you. Someone else did, someone better than me."

She shakes her head. "You know I don't blame you for – "

"It's my fault."

Maura's hands tighten a little around her own at the low tone in her voice, flinching away a little, the perfect contradiction. It reminds her too much of the Maura that had been found. The one who could only exist in the dark because she hadn't seen sunlight in two hundred and ninety two days and screamed with terror anytime she woke up with Jane by her side; the woman who apologised and cried if anyone asked her what she wanted and feared more than anything the woman that loved her.

She slips her hands from Maura's, pretending not to notice the way her face falls. Turns back to Reyes.

"Can I - ?"

"You're more than welcome, Jane."

She nods before she turns back to Maura.

"When you first disappeared, we were all so certain that we were going to find you. I was certain. I was going to swoop in like the hero and whisk you away from danger. Because I couldn't be without you. So I'd find you. I just would."

"Jane – "

"Maura, please."

Maura blinks again, tears gathering in her eyes. Jane looks away from those eyes, down to the hands that reach for her now rather than flinch away.

"The day I realised you'd been missing for a week almost killed me. Because I hadn't found you yet. Cavanaugh could only give enough free reign to investigate your case for so long. I had to find you. I kept looking, and looking, but I had to do my job eventually. And every day, I'd wake up, wondering where you were, how you were, how close I was to finding you. Anytime I wasn't looking for you, it was like it was my fault you were gone. That you were in trouble. Because you were my responsibility."

She reaches out to take Maura's hands."

"The possibility that you were dead didn't occur to me until you'd been gone for five months. I had no leads – there hadn't been many to begin with. Your house was still a crime scene, even then. It was nothing like the home you'd owned. I called in sick that day and sat at home with a six pack of beer and didn't touch one damn bit of food. Because if I did, I only threw it back up. I was a mess, Maura. Not in the way you were forced to be. My experience would never compare to yours, and this isn't a competition… but I was a mess. And I blame myself for every moment of it."

Maura swallows her in her arms immediately. Hands cupping her shoulder blades as Jane buries her face in the slope of her shoulder, the soft smooth skin that is somehow still unmarred. Like this, she can feel the hitch of Maura's uneven breaths as she struggles to fight against crying. She can imagine her own is just the same. Instead of focusing on it, she closes her eyes, focusing on the fact that Maura is here now. She's no longer without her. Those moments when she wakes up and thinks for just one second that Maura hasn't been found are just lingering nightmares.

Eventually, Maura pulls away, her eyes still filled with unshed tears.

"Maura?"

Jane startles slightly at Doctor Reyes' voice. She'd almost forgotten that the woman was still in the room. The therapist stands, smiling at them as she speaks.

"Would you like me to give you two a moment?"

"Yes, please," Maura murmurs. Jane doesn't know how she finds the ability to speak.

The door closes behind Reyes with a soft snick. The room suddenly feels awkward, tension too real and everything too honest. She wants to take the words from the air and shove them back down her throat, she wants to reverse her voicing of the bad things. She loves Maura, yes. Maura knows this. But she does not need to know her dark corners, the edges that make her unlovable in return; the parts of her that will make her want to leave.

Maura does not leave. Instead, she takes her hands.

"If we're confessing, then I suppose it's my turn to share."

"You don't – "

Maura quirks an eyebrow. "If you say I don't have to then you misunderstand the purpose of therapy."

Jane almost allows herself to laugh.

"Can I tell you why it's still so hard for me to trust you, even when every part of me knows I should? That I did before?"

She rolls her shoulders in preparation. Every time they talk about this, it knocks the damn wind out of her.

"Shoot."

Maura smiles.

"Every time I look at you, there's this moment, perhaps only two seconds, but enough to ruin me… I look at you and I see Melissa."

She looks down at her boots. Yeah. She knows. She's known this whole damn time, heard it from doctor's and Maura's screaming mouth and Maura's late night hazy nightmares. She's damn tired of living with that knowledge.

Maura releases one of her hands to put a finger beneath Jane's chin, pushes up so that she's forced to look at her.

"It's not as bad as it used to be. For a long time, you two weren't separate at all. Now I know that you are. But for two seconds, I'm back there, with a woman who hurt me if I did not do as she asked. I'm not with the woman who drops everything for me – runs down the hallway at four in the morning to lay with me when she hears me screaming; gives me space when I ask for it despite her instinct to push; loves me in spite of everything. I hate that I could ever confuse you for her."

"It's not your fault," she interrupts. "If I'd found you – "

"Do you know how much I loved you?"

Everything inside of her stills, even her heart, time passing like slow motion as all breath escapes her. Maura is staring at her reverently, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I remember it well. It was a real and palpable thing. It almost consumed me. I think I still loved you when I was held hostage. That's why I blended the two of you in the first place: my constant love and my constant hurt."

She slips her hands from Maura's to cup her cheeks, tears spilling free now. She notices Maura's hands trembling as they grip her wrists.

"I just got confused," Maura whispers hoarsely. "I'm trying to come back to myself, because every time you're near me, I remember all of the reasons why she – me – loved you. I'm falling in love with you all over again. I'm just stuck… can you wait for me?"

Everything begins again. Her heart pounding and own hands trembling as she reaches forward to drag Maura into a fierce hug. Their knees knock and Maura laughs against her cheek, kissing the space between her jaw and her neck.

"Jane?"

"Oh," she suddenly realised she hasn't answered. But how has this ever been a question? She would wait a lifetime for Maura Isles.

"Yes," she whispers, gripping her tighter. "I love you. Yes."

TBC