Jane married Dean. He stationed himself in the Boston office when he could, but he spent a lot of time out of town as well. Chasing down big-time criminals.
The first time Jane showed up with a bruise Maura barely noticed; she was used to the way Jane managed to get injured at work. But then, with chilling certainty, she remembered that Jane had been in the office all day.
"It's late, Jane," Maura said, when she finally followed a yawning Jane through to the kitchen, flinching when her bruised muscles were pulled by her slack jaw. She rubbed her hands through her hair.
"It's just... it was so pointless. She had cancer, and he killed her anyway. If he hadn't, he'd have gotten the insurance, but he hated her that much he couldn't wait a few more weeks." Jane shook her head. Maura knew Dean was in town; Jane had kept her name. Jane didn't come over as much when he was home unless something was wrong and it was written on the bruise on her face exactly what was wrong. "But when he saw her in the morgue - he wasn't acting. He was genuine - he'd loved her. If it had been morphine because he couldn't stand to see her suffer, wanted to let her go weightless, something slow and easy, I wouldn't have blamed him. But strychnine for days..." Jane rubbed her face, then stopped abruptly when she met the tender flesh of her bruise. "We hurt the ones we love, I guess."
Jane had never hurt Maura. A little, emotionally, now and then. But Jane was always the first one to get between Maura and danger, even if that danger was Maura's own biological family. Jane had only ever hurt her by pushing her out of the way of greater danger, away from potential injury. And Maura had taken time to get used to touching Jane at all, and even then the worst she could do was pinch her elbow or tap her shoulder to get her to behave herself. Constance and Arthur had never hurt her. Hope and Paddy and Angela hadn't either, and one of them was very, very skilled at hurting people.
"You can stay," Maura said, yawning, glad she'd worn the green satin sleepwear tonight because it always had caught Jane's eyes. Tonight they caught on her mouth too, and neither of them mentioned that, or the bruise on Jane's face.
"You have a one guest policy, and you already have my Ma."
"You're not a guest. You're family. All five of you." Jane did the math, her nose scrunched. "TJ, not..."
Maura remember the last time Frank had been in town, and it made sense a little more. Why Jane acquainted being hurt with being loved. Jane's face softened unbearably into that smile she gave when she thought Maura was being incomprehensively sweet. It had always made Maura's hands tingle, made her chest ache. Maura looked away.
"Dean's gone back to HQ," Jane said quickly. "And I don't know I want to be alone after a case like that."
"You're always welcome here," Maura said quietly. She'd liked Dean at first, as a match for Jane. But he hadn't aged well - it sounded so superficial - and he usually looked like a wet dog when she saw him. She didn't like the way he spoke to her, or the way he kept her from her family and friends when he was in town.
"I know," Jane said, in the voice she only used when they were alone, the voice she only ever used for Maura. Deep and rich. A voice Maura could swim in, get lost in. Low, a little husky but very soft. "Thanks."
Jane pushed herself away from the kitchen counter with her hip, flinched again at some unseen injury as she headed upstairs. Jane had her badge and gun; she'd clearly been hoping to stay. Maura waited for the shower to turn off, then another few minutes for Jane to climb into the flannels Maura kept in her room. She didn't live here, but Maura kept a room for her. It was strange, it was silly, but on nights Maura couldn't sleep she would go to Jane's room and bury herself in the lavender scent that remained in Jane's wake. She did launder the sheets, of course, but pillows held a scent and Jane's was too comforting to simply wash away. Besides, she'd been in Jane's house. A few weeks between washing pillows wouldn't hurt her.
Jane was tucked into bed, subdued when Maura sat beside her.
"Tell me," Maura said, her voice unexpectedly harsh.
"It's silly, he opened the bathroom door while I was reaching for it." Jane was a good liar, but she wasn't selling it. Maura's fingers brushed hair back from Jane's face, then she pressed a kiss over the bruise. They didn't kiss often, and never anywhere but the cheek or forehead, maybe onto the other's head if they were sitting. But Maura wanted to kiss this better, and she couldn't. "I can't stop thinking about her. She knew she was dying, and she knew he was killing her anyway."
Maura lay carefully beside Jane, giving the air of getting comfortable and offering comfort rather than preparing to sleep. She tucked her right arm behind her head, let her left hand find Jane's on the covers and hold it. "It was clever of her, to unplug herself and preserve us a sample."
"Clever of you to think of testing for it, when we all know how many poisons there are to test for."
"He wasn't smart. Rat poison." Maura shook her head. She turned to look at Jane. "You know I'd never hurt you, don't you?" Maura asked, concerned.
"You never have," Jane said warily. "Never deliberately. Besides, I don't have anything you want. And you know I'm leaving it all to TJ anyway."
"And you have never hurt me," Maura said. "Well, my feelings, but you always look so guilty when you apologise."
"Yeah, I forget you're not one of the boys, sometimes. You've seen how I was raised." Jane sighed and rubbed her thumb across Maura's knuckles. "But I try. I'm trying."
"I know," Maura said mildly. "I'm just saying that I love you, and I'm here if you want to talk, or if you don't want to talk." Jane's thumb froze at the word 'love', then resumed its path across Maura's knuckles, slowly and reverently.
"I know. And I wouldn't kill you for your money." Jane sighed. "Nothing would be worth losing you for."
It wasn't a reciprocation of love, but it was as close as Jane got. Maura moved to sit up, but Jane's hand squeezed hers.
"Stay," Jane whispered, and Maura's heart broke with everything she didn't have, with everything that wasn't being offered. Jane felt safe with her. Jane loved her. But Jane was married, and Jane would never say that the way Maura wanted her to.
She stayed anyway, and woke with Jane's head on her chest. She kissed the bruise again - so much worse in daylight, and Jane groaned as Maura extracted herself.
"Maura," Jane called when Maura made it to the door. She touched the doorframe and turned. Jane's hair was a mass of unruly curls, and her face was scrunched up to protect her eyes from the light coming through the windows, but she looked magnificent nonetheless. "Thanks. And, I - you know. I do."
Jane looked so vulnerable that Maura came back and pressed another kiss to Jane's forehead, examined carefully the bruising around her eye. When she brought up coffee, she would bring some aspirin and an ice pack. Jane looked up at her so trustingly, so lovingly that it caught Maura's breath in her chest, make her throat ache for everything she couldn't say.
"I know," Maura said, giving Jane a tight little smile and heading downstairs to start the coffee.
The second time Jane showed up bruised, Maura started planning. She let Jane inside, and this time she took Jane up to the bathroom, carefully helping her undress that spectacular body she couldn't help but notice even as her attention was drawn to Jane's injuries.
"I tripped over the couch," Jane said. "Nightmare, didn't want to turn the light on." Maura nodded, her mouth tight and closed as she evaluated the injuries. She knew Jane knew she could see a defensive wound a mile off, and her forearms were littered in them. She wondered if Dean knew that she knew, wondered how far he'd go to keep this secret. He was a federal agent. He could have Paddy killed and make it look like an accident. He could get Hope on laundering charges. He could even hurt Cailin, or TJ. Maura's breath hissed out of her, and Jane flinched.
Jane never flinched when Maura touched her. She had to calm down. She took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," Jane said, her voice small, a voice Maura had only heard around Jane's father. And Dean, when he allowed Maura near them.
"There's no need to be," Maura told her, trying to smile, trying to lighten the mood. She could see blood at the edges of Jane's underwear.
"I woke you up, didn't I? Dean got a call, while he was trying to clean me up," Jane said when Maura saw a bandage on Jane's ribs. From the curl of it, it had been there longer than it took Jane to get over here, and it had been used frequently, starting to fray. "He got called back to DC, so I came here. I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Maura said gently, too gently, because tears shone in Jane's eyes and she looked away. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Maura repeated herself, and Jane blinked away tears as she nodded, not looking away from Maura's face.
Maura pulled out her first aid kit and used swabs to clean up any bleeding. When she looked down at Jane's lap she flushed.
"Period," Jane said, her voice low and strained. Maura didn't like being lied to, but she couldn't - she knew the truth but she didn't want to hear it. But she owed Jane that much, didn't she? She looked Jane in the eyes until she gave one short nod, her breath catching in a sob.
"Do you need stitches?" Maura asked, her voice low and professional as she catalogued the rest of Jane's wounds. Jane shook her head numbly, her body relaxing under Maura's fingers again from the tension of the unasked and unanswered question. "I'll run you a bath, then dress these," Maura said. If Jane had expected privacy she was sadly mistaken, Maura watching with an intensity she almost couldn't bear. She dried Jane gently, using antiseptic on the open wounds and handing her a laden swab of her own. Marital rape was hard to prove, even with this kind of battery, and Jane worked at the precinct. Her colleagues would know. It would hurt her career. She used a new ace bandage on Jane's ribs, feeling the intake of breath as her fingers trailed the underside of something impossibly soft. She bandaged the wounds, and then she held Jane.
"I'm getting your pyjamas wet," Jane said, muffled against Maura's hair where she'd nuzzled in against her.
"They'll dry," Maura said absently. She slid her hand over Jane's back and held her closer, expecting Jane to object on account of her injuries or on account of her nudity but her own arms pulled Maura closer too.
The third time Maura saw a bruise on Jane, she left the precinct for half an hour, discarding all the disposable gloves she'd let build up in her bag in the lab bin upon her return. She hummed, and smiled grimly at Susie when she asked what was wrong.
"Everything, but only for a while," Maura said, then touched her forehead, blinking. "Must be dehydrated," she added, excusing herself.
Dean didn't make it back to HQ when he fled Boston, he and his car being found in the harbour a few days later, a bloated mess. Maura recused herself from the autopsy since she knew him, left it to Pike.
He was a federal agent; he'd been working an organised crime case. He'd made enemies. Jane had half thought he'd left her, half thought he'd gone under cover. She'd reached out to his boss, who said he'd turn up, and then he had.
The autopsy ruled his death accidental, and Jane was relieved. She'd worried Maura might have hired someone, might have told Paddy, or Tommy. But Maura just sat by her side at the funeral and held her while she cried.
"You've never hurt me," Jane said, a few years later. Lucy and TJ were playing some toddler game together, and Maura kissed Jane's forehead. "I think that's why I couldn't let myself believe that you loved me for so long." Maura smiled and leaned back into Jane's arms, Tommy and Frankie watching the kids. Jane kissed her cheek. "And maybe why I couldn't let myself love you for so long. I never wanted to ever hurt you."
"You never will, Jane," Maura told her.
People like Dean hurt the ones they loved, because they loved power more than what they perceived to be their possessions, not even seeing them as people with their own hopes and dreams.
People like Maura? Well, she hadn't loved Dean. Hurting him served no purpose.
That was why she'd simply killed him instead.
Maura hummed as Jane's hands tightened around her. "I've been thinking Lucy looks lonely," Jane said quietly. "Like she might want a little brother or sister." Her voice was hopeful, and Maura chuckled, resting her wedding ring on top of Jane's matching one on the hand beneath hers.
"It's my turn, isn't it," Maura said ruefully. She looked over at Lucy; she was half Dean, but no less loved for it. Maura of all people knew that nurture outwon biology. Paddy might be a serial killer, but Maura was not.
She just had one little murder. As a secret. As a treat. She didn't need another one because no one was ever going to be stupid enough to hurt Jane again.