DISCLAIMER:I do not own Rizzoli & Isles nor any of the characters from the show. I am writing this purely for entertainment, not profit. Rizzoli and Isles are property of Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

Please find the full disclaimers in the beginning of Chapter 1.


Chapter 35

Jane felt more encouraged that Monday evening, after she got home from work, when she spoke to Maura. She insisted they spoke on video, and Maura shared not only that she had been feeling better, but that she had made good progress in the session with Melanie earlier in the day.

Jane didn't pry asking specifics, but she could see Maura's expression lighter. And Jane hoped Maura was on her way to mending.

Jane, on the other hand, had been feeling confused since she had left the Beacon Hill house the day before…

She knew how terrified she had felt about losing Maura.

She knew how she felt about Maura.

And if in one hand she thought it was coward not to tell Maura how she felt, knowing how close to losing her this situation had been, Jane didn't want to risk losing Maura in case Maura didn't feel the same and decided she couldn't just ignore that Jane felt something more.

Either one of the losses was unbearable.

And it reminded Jane again why she had so promptly accepted the job in DC a year before, more promptly than she ever expected she would be able to: because it helped put some distance between them. Because it gave Jane the sense she would not be scared all the time about accidentally letting it slip or let it show how she felt about Maura.

Her romance with Cameron as soon as she had moved to DC had been a tentative to get a hold of things. To prove herself that what she felt for Maura, beyond the most incredible bond of friendship, was just a temporary crush. It wasn't.

And although Cameron had been attentive and fun, and a caring lover, and probably the healthier romantic relationship Jane ever had in her life, Jane still felt empty and shallow, as if it lacked substance. And she had learned her lesson with Casey. If it didn't feel like a clear yes, then it should be a no.

So they parted ways, friendly, after just a few months, but it just reinforced to Jane where her real substance lied. And it was four hundred and fifty miles away from DC, in Boston. More precisely, in Beacon Hill.

And it was with the person who was her substance that Jane continued to connect every single night to ensure Maura's recovery was moving, that Maura was not overdoing herself, and that Maura was not getting stuck or stressed out.

Four hundred and fifty miles away, Maura resumed her writing on her bounded notebook.

The conversation with Melanie that first Monday morning after leaving the hospital had been productive. First, they discussed Maura's research behind the scientific reasons for her survival. Melanie was obviously not interested in the reasons themselves, but in why it had been so important for Maura to have a scientific reason in the first place.

So they had gone back to the discussion around unfinished business, things Maura still wanted to do, and Melanie also poked about things she might want to say. Her homework assignment had been to write a letter to each person Maura had something to say if she was to die that day. Maura at first had resisted the assignment, but when Melanie explained she didn't actually need to send the letters or to show them to anyone – not even to Melanie – Maura finally agreed.

As soon as Maura arrived home, she diligently proceeded to work. As hard as those assignments from the shrink were, Maura knew that if she really wanted to get better, to get back to being in control of her own self, she needed to put in the effort and face her demons head on.

So, when Jane called Maura that first evening, Maura had already made some progress beyond her initial struggles in the writing, and she had been confident given the few things she had already unveiled in the two first letters she had written. That journey of self-discovery was interesting, and although sometimes painful, it was also incredibly rewarding, and Maura felt grateful for that opportunity.

Melanie had insisted they kept sessions at least twice a week for now, to be reassessed when Maura could confirm she was back to sleeping better. Melanie had offered Maura again the option of medicines, that Maura had refused, at least for now. Maura knew her nightmares were about things she had not been handling well. And she knew that if she accepted the easy comfortable immediate path that the medicine relief would offer, it would be hard for her to keep the focus and effort to untangle the complicated feelings she needed to analyze.

So she kept pushing herself.

Each session with Melanie forced her to go deeper and more intentional about looking at herself. Each session brought her one step closer to revelations that were just lying dormant inside herself.

The first surprise for Maura was that she felt comfortable – actually she felt compelled – to share some of the letters. Not with Melanie herself, but with the person to whom the letter had been originally written intended for.

"Is that okay if I give it to the person?" Maura asked Melanie, after explaining how she felt about it.

"Why wouldn't you?" Melanie asked, trying to understand the source of the insecurity coming from the always so confident doctor.

Maura paused for a moment. "Because it will show them a side of me that they might not even know exists."

"And what side is that?"

"Hmmm… A more human side, maybe? Certainly a more vulnerable side…"

"Something even you are, human and vulnerable…" Melanie provoked. "Even if you prefer not to show that…"

"I do… But these people… These few people… I trust them. I can be human, and vulnerable, to them." Maura thought about Angela, Frankie, and her parents. Even Hope.

"Then, by all means, share what you wrote to them with them." Melanie smiled proudly at her. That was a huge progress to the always so private doctor.

Maura smiled, satisfied.

By the end of the fifth session, the last before Maura was to be back to work even only for desk duty, Melanie asked.

"So where do you think you stand now?"

Maura sighed, pensive.

"I am mostly recovered. My knee and my shoulder barely trouble me, and I am ditching the sling. My ribs still bother me, as expected, so I am a bit concerned about going back to work on Monday. I guess I will have to play for desk duty for a couple more weeks before I can stand all day in autopsies or go back to the field."

"How does it make it feel?"

"Honestly? Every time I have been away from work for any amount of days in my entire life, I would by now be anxiously waiting to get back. Not this time…"

"Do you like your work?"

"I do. I feel the dead can speak through my science, and I have this immense pride and take enormous satisfaction in being able to bring them justice."

"But?"

"But… I think I am getting old. Or tired. Or both. The prospect of working night shifts, or weekends, or continue to see endless gruesome stories for some reason is getting to me this time. It never happened before. It is not that it is repellent, it is just for the first time I feel more conscious about the not so meaningful side of my work."

"And why do you think is that?"

"Maybe for the first time I was faced with my mortality. I have been through dangerous situations before. But before, what bothered me was the threat, the fact someone had chosen to cause me harm. This time I think I finally realized my mortality, like that of most of humanity, will not be delivered to me by the hands of a criminal, but likely by disease or by a freak accident. Regardless, I think it reminded me my time left to live is limited, and I might want to be more intentional about how I spend that time."

"What are your intentions then?"

"I am not sure yet. But I will certainly be mindful of how I feel before I make any decision."

"How is your sleep going?"

"I still have nightmares every night. But there is still one thing that I must try to do…"

"How do you want to keep the sessions moving forward?"

"Once a week should be enough from now on."

"I will see you next week, then."