Maura kept the bullet.
She held Jane's guts in with her bare hand, the other over her heart to make sure the shock wasn't killing her. Her dress was drenched in blood, cradling Jane with her body to keep her off the hard pavement. Danny lay behind her somewhere. He's still, and she loves that for him. Wished the bullet hadn't gone through Jane first.
But it did, and it was lying there on the cold concrete. Straight through both of them. When she spared him a glance she saw that Jane got him in the heart, through herself without looking. She was that good. Jane was the goodest good Maura had ever known and as the paramedics took her Maura plucked the bullet from the ground and took it with her. In case they needed it for something. It wasn't like it was evidence; they had lots of eyewitnesses. If anyone wanted it, Maura would hand it over.
But no one ever asked, and she watched the surgery from a corner of the operating room, allowed in because of her clout. She was still and silent in the corner, behind her gown and gloves and mask. She was just a set of eyes that watched Jane's bare chest rise and fall with her breath. Watched as gallon after gallon of blood pumped in and out of her straining heart. Watched as the beeping started to stabilise, as they closed the gaping wound in Maura's heart/gut wound in Jane's torso. Watched as the doctors nodded to her and let her take Jane's hand once they transferred her to a bed, watched as she walked beside Jane back to a room. Watched Jane's peaceful face, the perpetual line of worry gone. Angela came in weeping, grasping for Jane and then Maura. Frank was absent. Maura let Angela hold her, delivering pats to her back like she'd seen Jane do. It comforted her, somehow, until Maura shrugged off her gown. Her dress was soaked in Jane's blood. Angela wasn't used to these sorts of things, so Maura apologised and led her to where Frankie was just waking up in the other bed.
She borrowed some scrubs. They knew her here. Angela looked less terrified of her when she returned, but she clenched her hand around the bullet anyway. Straight through. Shot to the heart, and you're to blame. Jane had belted that out in the car once. She was so loud and animated that to see her lying still scared Maura.
"I've got her," Maura said softly when Angela looked between the two of her children. "Or him. Whichever one." Angela looked at Maura as though her heart was breaking.
"The doctor says you saved both their lives," Angela said, and she was weeping again. Maura wasn't sure why, but she found herself weeping too. Angela held her as though she couldn't hold her firmly enough, strongly enough to convey whatever it was she was sobbing too hard to say. Maura didn't get held a lot. Once by Jane. She liked being held by Jane. But Angela was good at it too, a different kind of good at it. It was something warm that filled her from head to toe, a love and acceptance Maura had never known. "How can I ever repay you?"
Maura wanted to say that she wanted Angela's firstborn in payment. That she wanted Jane, if she lived. But she hadn't even told Jane she wanted her, and Jane should be the first to know.
"I did it for them. And me. You owe me nothing," Maura said finally. She ran her hand over Angela's hair, then her back.
"I can never thank you enough," Angela said as she pulled back, wiping at her face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Angela kissed each of Maura's cheeks, and then her forehead with each word of thanks. With that, Angela kissed Jane's sleeping face in a way that would have made Jane's nose scrunch up if she had been awake. But she wasn't, so it happened. And then Angela looked at Maura, saw something in her face and she went to Frankie, to sit by him. Maura took the chair near Jane, feeling awkward and small in her scrubs and clean face. She had to hold Jane down when she woke up, pressing the call button.
"Frankie's fine," Maura said over and over. He wasn't; he was asleep again, knocked out on opiates. His breath still rasped a little and Maura wanted to follow up on that when Jane wasn't fighting her. She wasn't trying to hurt Maura, she was trying to sit up and look at Frankie but her stitches - the nurse came in and stared. Maura held her hand out to keep her from the line of fire. Maura pushed Jane to the bed with one hand to her chest, took Jane's hands in hers and kissed her.
Jane stilled completely. Maura pulled away and gestured to the nurse to check her over and Jane stared at her the whole time, Frankie apparently forgotten. Maura worried her thumbnail with her teeth until the nurse nodded, updating the chart and pressing the button on the morphine pump, showing Jane how to do it. She'd be out soon, like Frankie was, and it was the best they could do for her until she started to heal. Maura sat back down and took Jane's hand again.
Angela's eyes were wide, but she didn't flinch at the way Maura handled Jane. Maura told Jane the extent of the damage and the accuracy of the shot that killed Danny.
"Worth it," Jane rasped, looking up at Maura's mouth. "Anything that gets you to finally kiss me is worth it." Maura held the bullet in her hand. It wasn't worth it to her. Not seeing Jane fall to the pavement, not holding her intestines in with her bare hand. Not knowing now that Jane had wanted her too. If Jane had died she'd have never known, never gotten to kiss her. But she didn't die, and Maura did kiss her. She slid the bullet back into her pocket and took Jane's hand, her eyes wide from the morphine kicking in. She kissed Jane again, because she was alive, after all. Because she could. Because Jane would take a bullet for her easily without ever telling Maura how much she loved her. And Jane kissed her back, sweet and uncertain. When Maura pulled back, Jane's eyes were soft and tender, saying everything she'd never said aloud.
"Next time, just ask," Maura said. She hadn't forgiven Jane for making her watch her shoot herself. Hadn't forgiven her for the recklessness that had nearly taken her life. Hadn't forgiven her for the cowardice that had prevented her from just asking instead of the needlessly dramatic sacrifices she'd made that day - always standing between Maura and the gun, always keeping Maura behind her, always touching Maura to reassure her. Helping her help Frankie. Jane smiled and slipped into sleep. Both of Maura's hands held one of Jane's, the bullet in her pocket forgotten.
Maura kept the bullet. It stayed in her pocket when she had one. She had it put on a chain for a while, then when it was time, she had it melted down into a wedding ring.
It had been inside Jane, after all. It was part of their story.