"Are you all right?" Jane asked again. Maura's silence rattled her. The bit of profile she could see, and Maura's partial reflection in the dirty glass - nose prints courtesy of Joe Friday - weren't enough for Jane to gauge Maura's feelings.
"I'm fine," Maura repeated, as she had every time Jane asked that question. In the hospital emergency room, Jane approached her cautiously. 'She thinks I'm in shock,' Maura realized. But she wasn't. She was considering all the implications of her actions. They were myriad, and affected lives beside her own. Jane gunned through the yellow light, but caught the next red. She took the opportunity to observe Maura, but learned nothing new from the set of Maura's face. She tentatively put her hand on Maura's shoulder, and got the first real reaction from her.
Maura twitched at the moment Jane's hand folded over her shoulder, but after that, she turned her head enough to lower her cheek against Jane's fingers. "I'm fine," she repeated, eyes closed.
"Ok," Jane agreed, and closed her eyes for a moment at the feeling of Maura's cheek. The next, she reminded herself that it did neither of them any good. A brief trip down the "should we be dating trail" hadn't worked out despite their obvious physical attraction. It was Jane's fault, and she would freely admit to her refusal to commit, partially because of Hoyt. She returned her hand to the wheel and her attention to the street. Maura was her priority now, her only priority since she was physically escorted from her desk to her car, told which hospital to go to, and instructed that neither of them would return until someone near the top of the food chain so decreed. She didn't know yet what Maura had done. Allegedly. Jane hoped Maura still trusted her enough to tell her when she was ready to talk.
The ride to Maura's home continued in silence. Jane pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. Maura didn't move.
Jane said her name, but hesitated to touch her, and said it again before Maura turned toward her. "You're scarin' me."
"Sorry," Maura apologized automatically. "Do you want to come in?" Manners, ingrained in Maura since infancy, were a great help.
"I think I should."
Maura nodded absently and opened the car door. Jane scrambled out and around, and hovered near Maura while she made her way inside. She didn't make any of her usual stops, and went directly to the master bath and started filling the huge tub.
"Are you hungry? Want a drink? Anything?" Jane asked.
"I'm going to take a long bath, and then I'm going to bed," Maura explained. "You don't have to stay. I'm fine."
"You keep saying that, but you don't look fine, and you don't sound it."
Maura left the bathroom. At her dresser, she removed her jewelry without looking into the mirror. She wasn't certain she wanted to see what Jane saw, whatever it was that made her not fine. She needed time and quiet to finish working through all she had done and fit it into her self and world image. Jane was making it that much harder, and at the same time, Maura was grateful for her presence. If she felt the need to fall apart, Jane would hold her while she pulled herself together.
Right now, though, she was alone. She heard Jane in the kitchen, the low tones of conversation, the opening and closing of the refrigerator, the snick of a knife on the cutting board. Jane was undoubtedly calling someone to fetch Joe Friday, and fixing something for Bass, and probably something for them, as well.
The hot water and bubbles were soothing, and Maura let the taps run a little longer after she submerged herself. She laid back and closed her eyes, knowing what she would see.
Understanding the physiological and psychological reasons for seeing the past hours replay on her eyelids didn't make it easier. The thoughts that helped - that he would never hurt anyone again, that Jane would have no new nightmares, that he wouldn't infect anyone else's life - could deflect for only so long the truth.
She was like him, and like her father, and like everyone who willingly took a life without remorse.
Maura was completely unlike Jane, who even with the perfect opportunity and a better reason, did not murder her tormenter.
Every time Maura heard the murmur of Jane's voice, she moved, splashing water enough to drown it out. She couldn't when Jane knelt beside the tub, offering a glass of wine. "Frankie's gonna get Joe when he finishes his shift."
"You don't need to stay."
"I want to stay, Maura," Jane pleaded, worry evident in her tone.
"I'm fine."
"It would be a lot easier to believe if you didn't keep saying it over and over."
"I'm not sorry for what I did."
"They should give you a freaking medal. Hell, I'll give you a medal."
"I'll be lucky if they don't lock me up," Maura answered, her tone still flat.
"They won't."
Maura cracked one eye. Jane was stating a fact, not her opinion. "How do you know?"
"I made a few calls."
"What did they tell you?" Jane didn't answer immediately, and Maura opened both eyes. "What did they tell you?"
"Why were you in there anyway?"
Maura lowered her head and closed her eyes before answering. "I had a question."
"You couldn't use the intercom?"
"No."
"So what happened?"
Maura shrugged slightly. "He attacked me. I defended myself."
"You always carry a scalpel?"
"Yes. Can we please talk about something else?"
"Really."
"Yes, really."
"Ok," Jane paused. "Aren't you supposed to keep your stitches dry?"
"You're loving this, aren't you?" Maura glared at Jane.
"No." Jane shook her head slightly, completely serious. "I wish he never knew anything about you."
"I'm not sorry."
Jane looked at Maura, and nodded slowly. "I, uh, I made us some something to eat, but it'll keep."
"Thank you." Maura sighed and flicked the drain with her toe. "I'll be out soon."
"All right." Jane left the bathroom, still trying to wrap her head about what Frost told her. He watched the interview room recording, calling a play by play while Jane sliced a meal for Bass and a few things for she and Maura. There was no audio and no real need for it. Maura entered, spoke with Hoyt for less than a minute before he jumped at her, somehow free of the belly chain, and jerked the metal of his handcuffs against Maura's throat. She in turn fumbled in her purse, and came out with a scalpel, which she wielded precisely to make him let go.
She didn't yell for help until it was obvious Hoyt was dead. Maura Isles stood over the body of the man who tormented Jane Rizzoli and watched to be certain that he bled to death. Cause of death is exsanguination. Manner of death is homicide. Maura hadn't even realized he had something sharp until she turned for the door, and grabbed her side. She paused and pulled her hand away, looked and put it back. Hurried to leave the room.
There was the ambulance, and the polite EMTs, and the intern who carefully put a baker's dozen of stitches in her side and kept assuring her that scarring would be minimal. And then there was Jane, and Maura didn't know how to explain it. She wasn't lying; she was fine, although there would be much rumination over whole affair. She wasn't the least bit sorry for any of her actions, or her inaction. No matter from what angle she addressed Charles Hoyt, his death was a contribution to the greater good.
Jane was still in shock, though, after Maura's confession. She wanted to know why Maura went back to that room, to his presence, after deliberately sending Jane away, coaxing her to run some ridiculous errand. Did Maura go up there with the intention of ending Hoyt's life? Did Jane really care whether that was the case? No one would miss Hoyt. No one would mourn his death. The freedom of that knowledge, that he would pursue her no longer, made Jane dizzy. She could have her life like it used to be.
Except that she couldn't. Other things conspired to change her so that the life she had before Charles Hoyt trapped her in a basement was her childhood, and the time since a stormy, uncertain adolescence. Now, she supposed, she should become an adult, have a real relationship, do all those things her mother wanted.
It wasn't going to be what anyone expected. Or maybe it would be. The last time they tried to date was a nightmare of anxiety on both parts. This time, Jane would let things happen like they always did, and name them afterward. They were both a lot less nervous about trying a new restaurant than about going on a date with each other. Maura did something amazing for her, and Jane wanted to give what she knew Maura wanted in return, something just as huge and amazing, and it started with Jane taking care of Maura tonight, as Maura had done every time Jane picked up some minor or not so minor injury.
Maura was true to her word and entered the kitchen a few minutes later. "Thank you for taking care of Bass."
"You know how he gets."
Maura nodded.
"Sit down."
Jane put plates on the table, salads, sandwiches, iced tea.
They ate, but didn't talk, and Maura sat and watched Jane clear everything away. When she finished, Jane leaned against the sink and looked at Maura.
"You're being too quiet," she announced.
"There's nothing to talk about. Although I do need your assistance. I can't reach all of my stitches and I think that rather than taking an oral painkiller, l'd prefer the antibiotic cream with lidocaine."
"How many stitches?"
"Thirteen."
Jane winced.
"Fortunately, none of them will interfere with my undergarments."
"Where's the antibiotic cream?"
"In the master bath." Maura got out of her seat and left the kitchen.
Jane followed Maura through her bedroom into the bathroom. Maura pulled the tube from the medicine cabinet and handed it to Jane. She unfastened her pajama top and slipped it off one shoulder, making certain to keep her breasts covered with her other hand.
Jane winced again, at the bruises on Maura's side. She reached out, and barely brushed Maura's torso. "Good thing he's all ready dead." Half a second later, she began applying the cream to Maura's injury. She finished with the lightest of kisses just beneath it.
Maura stood still, dozens of thoughts bouncing through her head, until Jane slipped the sleeve over her arm and returned it to her shoulder.
"It's been a long day," Maura said.
"I'm staying."
"You really don't have to."
"I want to, Maura. I worry about you, too, you know. And I don't want to be alone. If I am, he'll be all I'll think about."
Maura nodded. "He's taken far too many nights from us."
Jane nodded. "He has. C'mon," she encouraged Maura toward the door with gentle pressure against her lower back. While Maura got in bed, Jane pushed her work clothes off and pulled a pair of boxers from her drawer in Maura's dresser. She put them on and got into bed. "C'mere," she said, and waited for Maura to move closer.
They made themselves comfortable, Maura's head on Jane's shoulder, their arms around each other. Jane waited for Maura to say something more, but let her stay silent. Sometime later, when Jane was certain Maura slept, she kissed Maura's head before closing her eyes.
-30-