What if…
Chapter 5:...Jane let them in
The antiseptic smell of the hospital comforted Maura as she sat staring at her best friend. She hated Charles Hoyt. She had never met him, but he had still managed to take so much from her. She hadn't met Jane before she was permanently scarred by the serial killer which meant she had never known a Jane Rizzoli that didn't carry with her a dark yet vulnerable edge. It was rare Maura could be the confidant for happy moments, instead, she more often offered Jane sleepless nights comforting her after particularly dark nightmares. Now, he had even robbed her the comfort of holding Jane's hand. Those hands now laid resting on Rizzoli's chest heavily bandaged. Bruises marred her neck and face. Dried blood stuck to her hair. At first Dr. Isles thought the medical team had missed a head injury, but after searching her scalp for any sign of laceration she realized it was blood from her hands that had no doubt seeped toward her hair while she was pinned to the floor.
She had told the staff to keep some of the details regarding Jane's injuries private until they spoke to her. There were details the family didn't need to know until Jane was ready for them to know. A movement across the room interrupted her thoughts. Angela was up and pacing again.
"I hate this," the older woman breathed out. "She needs to quit this job."
"Ma," Frankie warned. "That's got nothing to do with you. It's her decision."
"Oh sure, take her side. You still want to follow in her footsteps?" she asked pointing to the bed.
Maura and Frankie exchanged a look. Now wasn't the time to argue. "I think we need to support her until she's ready to have that conversation," Maura said rationally. The words clearly sunk in as Angela sank back down into her chair. Frankie offered a grateful smile. Nodding, the ME returned her attention to her friend who was now starting to move in her sleep. She recognized the jerking movements. Nightmares. Feeling the need to shield both Jane and her family the momentary fear that followed the dreams, she looked up to Angela, "I think she's waking up. Angela, can you go get the doctor, she'll want some pain meds as soon as she's assessed her. And Frankie, ice chips will be needed."
They both stood, neither objected and each one looked a little relieved to have a task to accomplish. Once the room was vacated, Maura stood up and smoothed Jane's hair back, "Easy Jane, your safe now."
The detective's hand shot up, trying to push away the person she sensed hovering over her. Maura expertly caught her forearm, sparing both women the pain that would have resulted in a contact blow.
"No," Jane whispered, squeezing her eyes tight. Preparing herself for more pain.
"Jane, its Maura. You're in the hospital," she explained calmly.
The tension in her brow faded, and slowly Jane opened her eyes. Maura watched her large, dilated pupils adjust to the harsh florescent lights. It wasn't until she saw recognition set it did she gently set Jane's hand gently back to its resting place atop her chest. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
A pause. Rizzoli scanned the room, taking in her environment. "I'm guessing about as good as I look," she answered wryly. "Where's Gabriel?"
Maura pushed down the momentary defensiveness she felt. The two had just spent a terrible fifteen hours together, of course she would be concerned about him. "He's with Korsak," she said. "He stayed back to help them process the scene."
Before Jane could reply, the door opened and a doctor walked in followed by Angela and Frankie. "Janie," Frankie breathed in relief and cross the room in three long strides. His free hand reached out to rub her leg. Everyone watched Jane flitch at the contact.
Maura swallowed down a lump in her throat. She suspected he knew why his touch had elicited such a reaction, and wondered if she had done the right thing keeping the family in the dark about the ordeal their loved one had suffered.
Jane attempted to distract her brother, "Is that water?"
"Ice chips," he said quietly. Maura was certain the younger brother had an idea of what had happened, but his love for his sister likely kept denial alive. He gave her a few chips and set the cup back down and kept his hands to himself.
"Can I talk to the doctor alone," she finally said after registering the stranger's presence who was silently studying a chart at the end of the bed. Angela and Frankie hesitated. Jane looked to Maura, a plea of help evident in her unspoken request.
"Come on, I could use some coffee," Dr. Isles said, herding Jane's family out the door.
Jane, for her part, did her best to squash the guilt she felt after seeing the hurt on each of their faces. She reminded herself she was protecting them. Once the door closed she turned back to the young red head that was waiting patiently at the foot of the bed. Jane moved to push herself up, trying to be in a less vulnerable position, but hissed in pain.
The doctor moved to manipulate a small gray remote, elevating the head of the bed until the detective was sitting upright, her hands resting in her lap. Sensing the needs of her patient, the doctor sat in the chair next the bed, eye level with the brunette. "Detective Rizzoli, I'm Doctor Elizabeth Elliot," she stuck to formalities, trying to preserve her patient's dignity. "I saw you when you first arrived, do you remember me?"
A faint recognition flashed through Jane's memory and then was gone. "I don't remember much after we got to the ambulance," she admitted.
Dr. Elliot nodded in understanding. "You were in shock, your blood pressure was very low," she started to explain never opening the file she had in her hands. "Your hands have a serious infection we're treating with I.V. antibiotics. You actually picked up a gram negative bacteria in the forest. It can cause complications as the treatment progresses so we need to keep you on an I.V. and will be checking on you often, so I apologize up front for the lack of sleep you'll be getting while you're here."
Jane smiled, appreciating the Doctor's approach. She knew she was about to face weeks of being handled with kid gloves, her family and friends expecting her to break down at any minute. The sense of normalcy was welcomed.
"We weren't able to suture the wounds," the red head continued. "The infection and the time they were left untreated made it impossible."
That scared Jane more than anything Hoyt had done to her, "Will I be able to work? Hold a gun? Shoot a gun?"
"It's too soon to tell, but we consulted with an excellent orthopedic surgeon, and he'll come by later today or tomorrow to talk about the next steps," she continued.
Nodding, Jane glanced away. Steeling herself for the next set of questions. "I need the morning after pill," she said evenly and looked back at the woman sitting next to her. She didn't react, only nodded.
"Of course, I'll take care of that right away. Dr. Isles had your assailant tested for HIV and other STDs, he was clear and wouldn't have exposed you to anything. She also checked the last physical Cedar Junction had conducted on Charles Hoyt, and we have nothing to worry about there," the doctor said evenly.
"Hoyt didn't…" Jane started to correct the assumption but stopped. Did it matter what the doctor thought?
"I'm sorry for the assumption. Dr. Isles' staff found evidence of a sedative in the blood samples they had collected, we had to assume…" the hesitation was the first sign of emotion from the doctor.
Jane shook her head, "I was with an FBI agent. He was awake….he confirmed…" Jane didn't know what else to say and was grateful when Dr. Elliot jumped in.
"I understand Dr. Isles has been trying to get Agent Dean in here to get checked over. He sounds uncooperative," she said, happy to see another faint smile. "Are there any questions for me?"
"Yeah, when do I get some pain killers?" Jane asked, the throbbing was getting harder to ignore.
"I'll have the nurse come in right away. I planned to prescribe morphine unless you have a different preference? I understand this isn't your first time with this particular injury."
"I'd prefer Percocet," Jane admitted. And waited while Dr. Elliot made some notes in her chart. "Am I ok…down there?" she asked feeling slightly childish.
Stopping mid-order, the doctor looked up, "There was some minor tearing and some bleeding. I'm sure you have some soreness, but you should be healed before they discharge you. Would you like to talk to anyone?"
Jane considered the offer, and then spoke in hushed tones, "No, BPD will assign a shrink. Thank you though."
Nodding Dr. Elliot stood. "I'm on call tonight, if you need anything, ask one of the nurses to page me. Dr. Tucker should be by later to discuss the best next steps for your hands."
"Thanks doc," Jane said and leaned back against her pillow. Enjoying the momentary silence. Her injuries would make it impossible to be alone for several weeks. She was familiar with this recovery. It would be humiliating. She wouldn't be able to shower by herself, go to the bathroom by herself, eat on her own, change her clothes… and that was the physical toll. Hours of therapy (physical and emotional) were ordered when she had only been stabbed by the scalpel and held for less than an hour. This time, she'd be lucky to work a case by the end of the year, assuming this Dr. Tucker was able to repair the damage that had been done.
Then there would be the hovering from her mother, the cleaning, and the passive aggressive comments about her job. She already felt her stress levels rising. What were her choices? Stay with Maura and put her in danger? As long as Hoyt was on the run, anyone close to her would be a target.
Her solitude was short lived a knock interrupted her thoughts and the door opened to reveal Barry Frost. "Hey," she welcomed him.
He seemed to hesitate in the doorway. Jane saw a uniformed officer standing guard outside the door while Barry tried to decide what to do. "Can I come in?" he finally asked.
"Of course, come here, sit down," she cocked her head toward the chair the doctor had just vacated. "You're just in time, my nose itches."
-/-
Gabriel Dean walked down the deserted halls of the hospital. The night shift had started, reminding him how exhausted he was. After a shower, a change of clothes, a statement at BPD, a debriefing with agents at the federal building, and a mandatory medical assessment it was hard for him to believe it was still the same, terrible day. Still he had one more reason to stay on his feet, Detective Jane Rizzoli. There was no reason to ask the nurse what room she was in, two police officers flanked her door. As he approached they stood to challenge him. He flashed his credentials and when they recognized his name they stood down.
Tapping quietly, he poked his head into the room and was surprised to see it empty. Turning to greet the visitor, Jane offered a genuine smile. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," she told him.
He smiled, "You look like you still need a shower," he told her honestly making his way to her bedside.
"Have you slept?" she asked reaching for him, but realizing the futility of such an action.
He shook his head, "I wanted to see you first."
Doing her best to shift over and make room for him, he looked around. "Where is everyone?" he asked before moving.
"I sent my folks and Frankie home, they couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. Frost went to help with the manhunt and Dr. Pike has Maura all spun up over some missing instruments. She said she'd back later, I think she knew I needed some time…" her voice trailed off.
"I can leave, I just wanted to see you—"
"—don't go," Jane interrupted. "Please, just stay for a bit. They don't understand, they can't understand what happened." Tears welled up in her eyes.
Without another hesitation he removed his shoes and slid onto bed. Wrapping his arms around her, she leaned heavily against him and wept. Several tears had fallen over the previous 24-hours, but the pent up emotions couldn't be held at bay any longer. His own tears rolled down his cheeks responding to her anguish.
-/-
Maura opened the door to Jane's hospital room. It was nearly 6 am, she hadn't planned to be away so long, but she had heard through the grape vine that Agent Dean was with her and she wanted to give them some time. What they both went through together required processing and decompression and she didn't want to get in the way. She wasn't surprised to see them both still sleeping on her bed.
Not wanting to wake either one, she started to back out, but before she could close the door, noise erupted from the nurse's station and invaded the room. Both occupants jumped awake. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized back out. "I'll come back."
"No," Jane stopped her. "Come in. We haven't been able to talk without Ma and Frankie hovering."
Dr. Isles watched Gabriel give Jane's shoulders a squeeze and then stood. "I'm going to check on the search, take care of the apartment, and will be back this afternoon," he promised and leaned in to kiss her.
She welcomed the affection, "Ok, thanks for last night."
Nodding curtly, he smiled and left the room.
"I didn't mean to run him off," Maura said apologetically sitting in the chair next to the bed.
"It's ok Maura, I wanted to spend some time with you and thank you for managing my family," she told her. "And helping Dr. Elliot…"
"It was the least I could, Jane," she said, casting a sympathetic look. "How are you?"
"Honestly?" she asked, glad Maura had come. "Feeling dirty. Could you figure out how I can get a shower or bath?"
"Of course," Maura stood, ready to take action. "There's a large bathtub on the third floor. Want me to get a nurse?"
Looking down, Jane looked embarrassed. "Could you…would you be willing to help? I'm not sure I can handle a stranger…"
"Absolutely," she agreed, feeling honored she would trust her so much. They were close, but even when they would crash at each other's homes, Jane was always very modest. Pushing the call button, it took a matter of seconds for a cheery blond clad in all pink bounced into the room. Maura intervened before the nurse could spread her cheer all over Jane. "I'm Dr. Maura Isles, we haven't met yet," she said extending her hand.
"Janet Benson," she introduced herself shaking hands.
"Nurse Benson, could you arrange for me to take Detective Rizzoli down to one of the bathtubs on the third floor?"
Her gaze shifted from Maura to Jane. She hadn't been briefed on the patient that arrived the day before, but the armed guards outside the door confirmed this wasn't an ordinary patient and would accept the unorthodox request without question. "I'll check the schedule and bring a wheel chair in as soon as it's available. Is there anything you need?"
Maura shook her head and turned her attention back to Jane.
"Thanks," Jane said relieved her friend had intervened for her.
They sat in silence for a moment, until Maura's curiosity got the better of her. "What did you decide to do about the apartment?" she asked.
"Gabriel is going to help schedule some movers and get ma focused on finding me a new place," she explained. "It will keep her busy and I won't have to go back there. Win-win."
"You can stay—" Maura started to offer her guest house, but was stopped by her friend's vehement head shaking.
"—I can't stay with you as long as Hoyt's still out there. He doesn't know about you, and I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you," she explained.
Before either woman could say another word, Nurse Benson returned with a wheel chair. "You're in luck, several of the personal care areas are available. I reserved room 325 for four hours. Take your time."
"Thank you," Jane said and started to fidget. She was more than ready to wash away the dirt and dried blood.
The nurse moved to the bedside to maneuver the I.V. pole while Maura helped the brunette into the chair. Once she was certain the patient was secure and in expert hands. She transferred the I.V. bag to the hook built into wheel chair. "There's soap, shampoo and some plastic covers set up in the room. If you need anything else, call our station, 8-7567. There's a phone in the room," she instructed and held the door open for the women.
Maura looked to the two officers, "We're going down to the third floor from some therapy."
Jane smiled grateful for the messaging Maura used. Looking to the two men, her smile grew wider, "Sergeant Burke," she greeted the familiar face.
"Detective, good to see you up and about," he said. "Officer Jackson will stay and keep this room secure, I'll accompany you."
And with that, they moved toward the elevators. After a short ride, Sergeant Burke exited and moved forward.
"Room 325," Maura instructed and followed the escort to the designated door.
Jane knew the "therapy" session would be revealed once he stepped inside, but she considered the man who entered the room with his hand resting on the handle of his weapon. He had risked his life for her and was continuing to lay his life on the line. Letting him know she was taking a bath seemed like a small price to pay for the safety he offered. Nodding as he cleared the room, he held the door open. "I'll be right outside," he said, voicing the obvious but it stilled made Jane feel better knowing he was there.
Maura moved Jane next to the large bathtub. I was clearly made to accommodate a large variety of sizes. The ME transferred the I.V. bag to a new hook and busied herself with the plastic coverings to protect the gauze laden hands. Then she removed Jane's socks and helped her stand. "Ready?" she asked not wanting to make the woman in front of her uncomfortable.
Jane nodded and turned to give her friend access to the snaps in the back holding the hospital gown together. Allowing it to slip off the slender frame, Jane stepped back and tried to keep the embarrassment at bay while Maura removed her underwear. Her cheeks blushed when she realized they weren't hers. "Those are interesting," she said eyeing the 'granny panties.'
Maura chuckled, "Hospital issue. They open and wash new undergarments for patients when needed. They're one time use I promise," she explained helping Jane settle down into the porcelain tub and turned the knobs, testing the water temperature with her wrist. "Your mom brought you a bag of your own clothes yesterday," she said pointing to a small black duffle bag hanging from the back of the wheel chair handles.
Relieved to know she'd emerge from the room clean and in her own clothes, she relaxed, allowing the warm water that had started filling up the tub creep up and wrap its tendrils around her sore legs. While Jane's attention was elsewhere, Maura assessed the visible marks that peppered the toned muscles. Angry phantom hand prints screamed at the ME. She forced herself to turn away before Jane noticed the emotions playing across her face.
The steam rose up and enveloped Jane and she watched Maura fussing with the different soaps and shampoos on the shelf across the room. "Maura," she breathed. "The kind of soap doesn't matter."
"I'm just trying to find a shampoo that's actually a base. You know these cheap shampoos are acids, acids don't clean, they just strip the hair—"
"Maura," Jane interrupted. Finally her friend turned to face her. "The unmistakable evidence of tears marked her cheeks. "Just come here, and stop."
Dr. Isles collapsed in the wheel chair next to the detective. "I'm so sorry, Jane," she whispered and rubbed her shoulder. Unable to return the comforting gesture, Jane leaned her cheek on the back of her friend's hand.
"I'm going to be ok," she said and let the water rise as her friend comforted her.