LET SLEEPING BLOOD LIE
Chapter 33 - Divided
"Please Maur," she choked out, tears free falling down her face...
Maura stares at Jane, she blinks on the outside. On the inside was processing. It takes less than 30 seconds to synthesize Jane with blackmail, merging what she knew with what she knows.
That Jane is not the same as she was.
It takes her less than 30 seconds to process everything.
It takes Jane less than 30 seconds to surmise that Maura is horrified at her actions. For her heart to implode painfully in her chest. To hate herself and to hate everything she has done everything she and has become. To confuse what she see's with what she believes.
It takes less than 30 seconds for her facade of strength to crumble and shatter around her ears like broken glass. Believing she has just lost the only thing holding the pieces together. She would run away if it didn't leave Maura in possible danger. She puts her hands over her head and slumps down to the floor in defeat. Her thoughts, her assumptions, her fears causing her mind to unravel...
She hates me, she can't stand me, she deserves better than me, I am not safe
Jane can only think it, know it, she can't say it out loud. It's too painful.
Maura looks at her pensively for a moment trying to understand.
"You should go" Jane whispers harshly. Her voice is so cold it could have frozen Maura's heart, but it doesn't.
"What's in them? Why do you want them?"
"For a case we are working on."
"You say it like it's your job." Jane scowls, it would have been for her. A case, work, helping someone.
Shannon watches her face as it slowly returns to normal, the anger passing, "No one is making you do anything, Jay. But if you wanted to recover your own hard copy file then you could get these too. I will help you get in and out. And Jay...for me this is my job."
He had called her Jay since that night after their first meeting, since her real name had accidentally slipped out after he heard the doctor say it to her. He had been standing nearby listening as agreed when it had been said...
"You don't know what you're dealing with here, Jane."
Of course he had already known of the heroic detective Jane Rizzoli. He had searched and found her file as requested before he even met her. He had read it carefully. Scrubbed it. He had deleted parts of it, he had written his own version of lies into it just for fun and to confuse others and then redacted the rest of it, placing it carefully back in the system without leaving a footprint. The whole time he was beaming. He loved this stuff. He did leave a backdoor that would alert him if it was accessed and by whom. All carefully hidden so it could only be found if someone specifically looked for it. Hacking. It is what he does. It's why they want him to work for them...it's why he doesn't. But he hadn't meant for Jane to know that he knew her. For her sake.
Someone had accessed her file the day after that, the day the good CIA doctor hadn't arrived at work, hadn't been seen all day. An FBI search of her home had revealed the doctors private notes, with Jane's name mentioned several times, and somehow someone had a hard copy of her file, probably the SIS. And so, they, of course, had gone after Jane. He hadn't been able to warn her in time, she hadn't answered her phone. She had quit...
White van. No plates. Four men. With weapons. With malice. With an Agenda
"You cannot predict what one person will do let alone a gang attack. If you have to fight...then every single hit has to take the attacker out...or you'll be out. If you can run...run. And don't look back."
Anna had trained her well enough to know how bad this was, and not to fight all four at once.
"Movies are fake, Rizzoli, they are choreographed scenes. I only know of a few real life situations where one person has disabled all attackers. One was a martial arts master and he only survived because they had not charged him all at the same time, and he had disabled them one by one on the first blow. The other...was really really lucky. But a gang attack...they don't usually come one at a time in single file...they will all attack at once, and if they want you dead they will beat you together until you are."
She had disabled the first guy that charged her, he had been well ahead of the other three men getting out of the van that had pulled up beside her screeching it's tires, he had been unwise. He fell at her feet like a sack of potatoes after her palm had thrust under his chin driving his jaw into his skull and snapping his head backwards. He hadn't even had a chance to swing at her. Guy 2 and guy 3 advanced together, but their steps out of time. They were huge. easily more than double Jane's weight. Guy 4 was edging around to get behind her, to blindside her, to trap her between the 3 of them. So she had run. She had to run. Three on one was not good odds.
They had chased. She was fast. They had gone back to get the van. Now they were faster.
Run where Anna?
She had just run, no idea which way was north, no idea where she was going. Her plan was to get as far away as possible and hide.
They had attempted to run over her in the van, missing her by inches. They missed but she had still fallen backwards as her foot caught the curb jumping out of the way.
And Guy 4 was on her like white on rice. She lay on her back on the ground and he punched her in the face. The fat lip was instant. It felt like her teeth were in her brain. Then he swung his autographed bat. It blurred as it moved so she wasn't sure which famous name was descending on her. The swing of a baseball bat luckily doesn't have the same physical impact when brought down from above by someone clumsily straddling your legs. But it still winded Jane, still felt like something cracked, still made it painful to move.
He had swung and the bat had bounced up an inch or two after meeting it's target then dropped back onto her chest, and stayed. No one would ever understand why. Maybe Guy 4 was tired, maybe admiring his work, maybe he wanted to see Jane's reaction. This beautiful, poetic pause, which was in slow motion for Jane, was an opening she never dreamed she would have. She thought it was over, she was a goner, and she had only hoped it would happen quickly and painlessly.
Instead, she wrapped her hands around the barrel of the bat, twisted it upwards and shoved the knob into his face as hard as she could. What a baby he was. He had let it go and fallen backwards holding his nose crying. Now she had a bat.
By that time passerby's were on their phones to the police, it was drawing quite a crowd. She had managed to run in the right direction, to a public area.
Guy 2 was now distracted trying to get Guy 4 up on his feet, they looked like brothers. And Guy 3, who had been driving was charging her. He looked like a lion in hunt, like a rabid wolf. His eyes were crazed and bloodshot. His teeth bared and spiting. And he had charged without much thought to his tactic. People had screamed. Jane had swung like this was the home run she needed to win the game, it was the home run of the century. Then it was messy. His police file would say blunt force trauma. His hospital chart would say depressed skull fracture. He would require 4 surgeries. His mother would say he was not the same anymore. Then there were sirens. Then she ran.
She was going to walk away after the fight with the doctor in the carpark. Yes past-tense...was. A few too many nightmares of blue eyes becoming white and the sound of skulls fracturing on concrete.
"I see the spray of blood from her nose as her head stops moving but the rest of her doesn't. I see the blood trickle out of her ear as she lies unmoving. I see her eyes roll back in her head over and over and over again. What did I do? What did I do? I can never do it again. I just can't..ever. I quit Shannon. It's over. I'm sorry."
Shannon had not been disappointed. He would have been happy if Jane could reconcile with her past. With the torture...the theft of her security. Move on like so many other had been able too. "It's ok Jay. You do what you need to."
Memories had made her sick. She wasn't going to pursue the information she had received that night from the CIA doctor. She just wanted out.
But after that attack that day, she was going to fight back with every ounce of her being.
"They were going to kill me Shannon. There were four of them. They had nunchucks and baseball bats. Sons of Bitches, I think my ribs are broken."
After that Jane hadn't looked back again, she was all in. So Shannon had helped make her a ghost. And here they were ready to carry on and fight. "I will not go gentle into that good night..." She had said and then smiled.
"Why me? Surely you have someone better at this than me for this, more experienced."
"Not really better, no. Besides you wanted to go in anyway. Two birds, one stone...right Jay?"
"What's in the files?" She tries again to find a reason, find her grounding, her confidence. Stealing government files for herself was one thing, but stealing for someone else, at the very least, she needed a solid tangible reason.
Shannon clears his throat and checks around that no one is listening, "The ones I am after are about sex trafficking and pedeophile rings." He looks down and swallows before looking back up. He is almost always calm and smiling but he almost lost it.
She contemplates this, then frowns, "Why would they be in U.S. confidential files at the senators office?"
"Why do you think the problem gets worse every year and not better." It's rhetorical, and she loathes the implications of it.
Shannon doesn't notice her fists going white as she clenches them on her lap. Her dimple contacting because her jaw is clenched so tightly. If it's true, it's a betrayal of the people by the government they vote in to care for them. It's horrific, sadistic and it's inconceivable and she suddenly becomes numb all over.
"Anually it's a $38 billion dollar in profit industry plus some, it doesn't get taxed. Worse yet, our tax dollars help fund it. There's been precedents set time and again by the government, through the military and military contractors, the CIA, and help in hiding it from the FBI. It is linked with satanic groups and secret societies. It is everywhere, even here in Boston there is child trafficking, kids sold or stolen, often into sex trades."
Jane is pale now, and she has cramp from clenching her fists for so long, "Can you stop it, can you take them down?"
He chuckles, amused that Jane still asks the same question, every single time, despite the answer never being affirmative. "We will try to expose them." It's the same answer he always gives and Jane's grimace is typical.
Jane mulls over her emotions for a moment "I only feel right - felt right, about doing things that are wrong because of what they did to me." An uncontrollable shiver rolls over her shoulders and down her back at the memory. Then she is angry, "Is this why you helped me, is this a payment I am obligated to make?"
Her eyes already glimmer and her brow creases. She is bracing emotionally for him to tell her it all had a price and she owes him, bracing herself for the sense of betrayal it will bring.
"No Jay, not at all." He remains calm, unfazed outwardly by the change in her, expecting it almost. "If it makes you feel any better, it is linked in a way."
Jane looks at him disbelieving, "You're pulling my leg now."
"It is all linked somehow, though, isn't it?"
Jane rubs her palms, she thinks about her little project, her wall. The connections being slowly uncovered every day. The bigger picture as it unravels before her eyes.
The 1 meter square of pictures and notes spreading further and further in every direction until she is out of room, "When I follow the money most things seem to be linked directly. When I follow the names they are linked corporately. And when I follow the organizations, well they are either behind it or are turning a blind eye to it." She sighs heavily, like the burden is hers alone.
He reaches over and squeezes her shoulder firmly, his smile never faltering.
"Do you know how many children under eighteen go missing in the United Kingdom every day? 383."
Jane is sure her chin bruises from what it might feel like to hit the floor.
"Worldwide 8 Million children will go missing this year, 2 million will be victims of commercial sexual exploitation. In DC alone, 500 children have gone missing in the last 3 months. 600,000-800,000 men, women and children are trafficked across international borders each year. Approximately 80 per cent are women and girls. Up to 50% are minors. 3,287 people are sold or kidnapped and forced into slavery every day..." He pauses allowing her to soak it up,
"Thats 136 an hour. And the average human is sold into slavery for less than $100." and there is repulsion in his eyes.
Jane squeezes her hands so tight her nails leave imprints.
"Wow" she breathes it so quietly neither hear the word leave her mouth.
"FBI prosecution of major child trafficking rings has been virtually non-existent despite the victims coming forward. Rings have been under investigation by federal and District authorities and includes among its clients key officials of the Reagan and Bush administrations, military officers, congressional aides, and U.S. and foreign businessmen with close social ties to Washingtons political elite. Grand Juries twice ordered thousands of files to be sealed, and then brought charges of perjury against some of the victims. Allegations of abuse involving 60 children, some infants, surfaced at the Presidio military base in San Francisco. McMartin Preschool abuse scandal in August 1983, when a mother told police that her two-year old son had been sexually abused. By 1984, 360 children had come forward claiming abuse. The Dutroux affair was-"
"Stop" Jane stutters out, "I get it. Fuck, just...fuck" she knows there's more, a lot more, but it make's her sick to her stomach.
"Jay, you never hear about it on the news. Enquiries are shut down and the judges forced to quit. And there are hundreds of thousands of documents that the governments have in their possession, yet they do nothing, because they profit from it, because they are sick sons of bitches and are pedophiles themselves."
Jane can't look at him, at anyone in the noisy bar, even if she looked she couldn't focus. The anger was indescribable, her own torture almost seemed pathetic compared to this, she felt like her entire body might burst, that her fragments of flesh and bone would fly out from her, like a bomb, destroying everything in it's path. She wanted to scream, to smash everything within reach.
Shannon watched her intently again, Jane fascinated him, she was so complicated, more than anyone else he knew. She was hard and soft, sweet and fierce, passionate and pained. She was stubborn and sarcastic. She loved and hated in one breath. He worried for her well-being but also knew she was capable of so much more.
"We already have so many redacted files showing they know about it. But we can always have more. Better. Documents that can't be minimized, falsely interpreted."
She looks at him, stares at him, like his face might hold an answer. She tastes blood in her mouth, self inflicted.
"If I do this, for you, for...for...the children...Will it- Do you think it will take away my guilt...my anger?"
Shannon for the second time since she has known him looks serious and sad, and she almost doesn't recognize him, "I can't answer that. It doesn't work for me, the good doesn't remove the bad. But who knows, you are not like me." He gives her an encouraging half smile.
"I'll do it", and the answer morphs into a quirky half smile on her lips, her eyes hold a glimmer of hope. And Shannon grins back.
Maura falls towards to hold her, "No Jane. I am not running away, I'm not leaving you." It reminds her of Jane in the same position on the floor of her bathroom some months ago.
Jane doesn't move...doesn't respond to her. Jane can't bear to verbalize her innermost thoughts, she doesn't want to make it worse...
Don't hope Jane, don't hope. She will leave, sooner or later, you wouldn't stay with you, you are a mess.
Maura holds her shoulders tightly to get her attention, trying to get her to look up, "I'm sorry Jane, I said I understood and was ready, but it- it just, it caught me by surprise. I'm right here and the only place I am going is wherever you are."
Jane looks up at her apprehensively, to Maura it looks like she has a secret she is fighting to keep.
Then Jane's eyes glaze over slightly.
The images of a boy crying underneath her gun, a woman unconscious and bleeding at her feet, a man in his underwear with only fear in his eyes, they flood her mind.
I am guilty, I might go to hell for what I've done, she couldn't follow me there, I wouldn't let her. Tell Maura that you are dead and gone, you are nowhere safe."
"I'm awful Maur. I'm a mess." Jane jerkingly wipes the corner of her eye before a tear can escape, before she speaks her voice tiny and broken, soft like the wind, "You have every right to be disappointed and ashamed of me. I am of myself. Of what I am."
It's so raw and vulnerable Maura chokes up wondering how she missed this before. This whole time... Jane insecure, fighting, her layers of protection being slowly stripped down, painfully, one layer at a time. She saw it was the night Jane came back to her, she couldn't touch Jane's face, but then later, they had loved each other so deeply that she was sure it would be alright, when they made love Jane was vulnerable, beautiful, lost in a better sort of way.
Then that night she arrived bruised front and back, she had been so different, and from there it was like ripples growing larger and becoming erratic. Occasionally she would see the Jane she had known for years, but after a moment she was gone.
Maura might have seen it sooner if she herself had been so angry. Angry at what Jane went through, and was going through. Angry because Jane would have been hers physically and emotionally had she not been taken. Anger at the details being kept from her.
Truth be told, she would have done almost exactly as Jane was doing if she had known how too. But right now her anger at seeing Jane broken before her wouldn't help. Jane needed a few layers put back on, like a winter coat in the storm, if only to metaphorically protect her from the cold.
"I have not nor will I ever be disappointed in you, Jane."
stop Jane keeps her head down without speaking
"I am not ashamed of you. Do you hear me, Jane?"
please stop, I don't deserve you
Maura cups her chin and lifts her face forcefully. She stares sternly into Jane's eyes trying to convey just how deadly serious she is. Her voice commanding. "You are amazing, Jane..."
Her eyes look like fire, my eyes once burned fiercely like that. Protectively, righteously.
Now they are fear, more than fear. Abated when I am angry or kissing you. Then it rebounds and crushes my chest.
"...and strong, "
Now I am danger and terror
She leans forward and pecks Jane's cheek, "...to have survived what you went through."
I will never tell you the thing's that were done to me.
She kisses Jane's lips softly, slowly, "To have come out the other side fighting instead of on your back."
Or the things I have done, am doing
"You have not been a victim Jane".
I have become a victimizer
"And I am proud of you...In every single way. And you should be proud of yourself too."
Maura tries to appear truthful, calm and loving, her lips curving in a sweet smile.
Jane doesn't smile back.
I am not good for you, I am guilty, I am angry, I am bitter, I am sorry, I am fear
How do I tell you that your kisses taste sweet like honey and fill me with fear
How do I tell you your sweet words sound wonderful like crackling wood in the cold but taste like lead
That your whispers are like fairy kisses that burn my skin like branded steel
That your trust in me cuts my heart to ribbons
Maura bites her lip and takes Jane's hands carefully holding them tighter as Jane tries to pull away.
"There are four basic human psychological needs..." Maura strokes her cheek reassuringly holding her tightly like she might just vanish, "The need for safety. That is security, comfort, order, consistency, control and certainty. You need it both physically and emotionally."
She takes Jane's wrists and starts to remove the black wrapping tape around them, the act equally surprising them both.
"And purpose...or growth. The need for physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual development. Contribution...The need to give, care, protect beyond ourselves, to serve others and the good of all."
Jane's shoulders stiffened, tears start to trickle down her face
"Then acceptance. Or significance. Belonging...love. The need for meaning, validation. To be wanted, special, connected. We each have a need to love and be loved by others. We each have a need to belong. We need to feel good about ourselves, to feel that they have earned the respect of others, in order to feel satisfied, self confident and valuable. If these needs are not met, the person feels inferior, weak, helpless and worthless."
The wraps are about to fall and Jane's eyes are wide with fear. Her breath hitches and she holds it afraid to breath. If Maura had not moved Jane might have stopped breathing forever.
"And innocence. Lack of innocence is shame...and guilt."
When the wrappings fall away they both stare at Jane's wrists. Only the faintest of marks left as a reminder.
Jane tries to hide her head in Maura's neck, and the sob she lets out sounds like heartbreak and loss. Pure pain.
Maura wraps her arms around Jane's quivering body until it stops.
"I'm still here Jane"
The whimper said it all, Maura pulls away thinking she had hurt Jane, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry"
She looks at Jane, the desperation and worry in her eyes. Jane closes her eyes, she doesn't want to see it. Guilt puts a lump in her throat she can't swallow and for a moment she feels like she cant breath.
I want you to change me, let me stay the same. Hold me, let me go. I want to tell you everything, I want to keep you safe.
Maura smiles softly, comfortingly, "Jane, You have done nothing wrong. But only you can determine your worth, your innocence. I can't keep you physically safe, but emotionally I can be you rock. I won't leave you."
And she seals it with a kiss that is soft then heavy and reassuring and reciprocated.
And they break apart, both panting and Maura has forgotten what she was going to say next.
Jane's voice breaks the silence, croaky and wavering, "My wrists, they were bound, and I was powerless. I wanted to be free. The feeling of something touching them reminded me I need to be free."
"You are free Jane. Tell yourself you are free."
"I've done things Maura, bad things."
"Because you had too."
"Hamish...it's my fault..."
"Because you had too."
She looks into Maura's eyes, there is no judgement, no horror.
"I'm so afraid..." she chokes out
"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear." Maura kisses her forehead
"I am so angry."
"So am I," Maura whispers back and kisses her temple, "And it's ok."
How can she wipe it all away, the guilt, fear and anger, like it has no power over me. how can the hate just vanish, how is she so amazing, how do I feel so free...
"Thanks." her voice is deep and gravelly but stronger.
"You need to wash your face," Maura responds kissing Jane's cheek before whispering gently in her ear, the warmth tickling Jane's neck, "The black paint on your cheeks has run and is dripping onto you clothes"
Jane laughs, it almost sounds like a sob, it's weak but it's happy, "Ok"
Maura stands up and holds her arms out to Jane who puts one hand in each, and Maura pulls her to her feet. Then Jane wraps her arms around Maura and pulls her close, faces pressed together, "Thank you, Maura, I - you - you are amazing." Jane whispers tenderly into her best friends ear tickling her back.
"You are welcome"
Jane pulls away, eventually, and then snickers, reaching up to Maura's face, "You need to wash your face too, now" she tries to rub the black paint transfer off but it only creates a bigger smear. And now she can't stop laughing. They both are.
"If the New World Order types had some kindness, some humanity, some morality, perhaps One World Government is what we need. But mainly these are nasty people with a lust for money and a ruthless disregard for human suffering. Sadly this is all made possible by a mainstream media that is owned and controlled by these very forces. Because the people who own media choose wherever it is that the light is to be shone. So the same stories and the same sound bites across six media conglomerates constitutes what the public is to learn about their world and their country."
Chris Pratt from his movie "Deception"
...to be continued...
Tell me what you think...this is not a cry for reviews...
Is the conversation between Jane and Maura believable? Is it emotional enough or is it just weird? Does it stay within the Jane and Maura characters? Does it get across what it needs to? Can you follow the actuality from the thinking, and tell who is doing the thinking?