Chapter Text
Jane is lying in the hospital, her third day conscious post-hand surgery, on more drugs than she’s ever been but nowhere near high enough to deal with her parents arguing as she tries to watch the Sox try to come back against the Phillies.
She’s straining to hear the announcers through the bickering, fighting the battle against her heavy eyelids, weighed down by opiates and other sedatives, only opening them when she hears the crack of the bat.
She doesn’t bother to look when her parents go silent, but when she hears her mother say “Doctor Isles, welcome back”, her eyes fly open of their own accord.
She’s trying to ride that adrenaline spike enough to turn her head when Maura responds “Thank you Mrs. Rizzoli. I heard she’s awake.”
Jane doesn't hear her mother’s response as her eyes lock in on Maura, dressed to the nines as usual, and with the slightly awkward countenance she wears everywhere but her morgue.
Maura is clearly trying to subtly eye Jane despite the polite conversation and eye contact she makes with Angela, and it makes Jane smile. Or makes whatever expression Jane’s face takes on when her mouth muscles are fighting the drugs. And the memories of the last few weeks.
She croaks “Ma, can you give us a few minutes” and Maura finally makes eye contact, worried, but seemingly grateful that she can observe Jane without breaking social convention, as Angela starts to protest.
Jane takes a deep breath and steadies her gaze on her Ma as she says “you two have spent too long couped up in here. Go get a bite.” Her father is standing but her mother is about to protest, before Jane cuts her off with “the Doctor'll watch me”.
Maura quickly assures Frank and Angela that she will take care of Jane while they’re gone, as Jane takes the moment to close her eyes again and take a few more breaths. As she’s recouping, she hears Maura end with “I promise I will call or text you with any concerns immediately” and Jane cuts in with “see Ma, I’ll be fine” as Frank follows up with “Come on Angela, let Janie have some time with her friend. We could use some fresh air. And we’ll be close if the Doc calls.”
Angela looks stricken, but relents among the three other gazes quietly encouraging her and says she’ll give the girls 15 minutes. She moves over to kiss Jane on the cheek and forehead. Jane doesn’t expend the energy it would take to roll her eyes.
Frank says “we’ll be back soon, champ. Can we get you anything?”
“No thanks, Pop”
“Alright, well we’ll be back in a flash if the Doc calls, but otherwise we’ll give you girls a half hour or so.”
“Frank!”
“Thanks, Daddy”
He is physically guiding Angela out of the room with a hand on her lower back and Maura is still chuckling as she cautiously moves toward the bed.
Jane opens the eyelid closest to Maura as she deadpans, “When I said we should hang out outside of a crime scene, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Maura, who wouldn’t have known what to do with this dark humor when they first met, now gives Jane an indulgent if slightly reprimanding smile as she says, much more sincerely “it’s good to see you awake. You need some water. Your doctor cleared you for clear liquids right?”
She’s filling up the cup on the table next to Jane’s bed, with one of the bottled waters set next to it, as she looks to Jane, waiting for the nod Jane drowsily gives her.
Jane’s detective brain is whirring, although at a much slower speed than usual, and she says “you’ve been here before”.
Maura is coming back from the drawer below the sink with a straw and a smile as she says “yes, I arrived at the hospital shortly after you did. I wanted to make sure you were getting the best care possible; surgery on the hands can be very delicate and it’s important to get it right to ensure maximum function post-injury. Doctor Danielson is one of the best in the Northeast and he assured me that everything went well enough to predict up to 95%...”
Jane smiles as she loses herself in Maura’s rant. Beyond her mother’s fussing and her parents’ bickering, this is the most normal thing she’s experienced in weeks. Maura is touching her forearm, about an inch above the bandages, as she finishes up with “I’ve already contacted a friend from BCU who’s put me in touch with the best manual physical therapist in Boston. She’ll be evaluating you in a few days. Here, the saline drip is keeping you hydrated but your throat and vocal cords need the moisture” as she holds the straw up to Jane’s mouth.
Jane dutifully sips, without any of the childish protests she’s given her parents and the nurses, as she lets herself be cared for by this woman who could barely make eye contact with her 3 months ago.
“You don’t have to do all that.”
“Nonsense. You’re one of the best detectives in the city. You need to be as capable as possible.” She drops her eyes before continuing “and even if you don’t want to do this job anymore, you deserve the capability to do whatever you want. It’s the least they could do.”
Jane has been struggling to intentionally put more than two or three thoughts together but she doesn’t need to as she instinctively asks, “this friend of yours not covered by the department insurance?”
“She is now.” Maura smiles gracefully, if a little triumphant, as she continues “now take one more sip”.
After she puts the cup back down and settles into the chair next to Jane’s bed, she seems a little more uncertain, more like the woman Jane’s come to know. Less wunderkind doctor, and more newly-established friend.
Jane looks up to the TV and the score hasn’t changed.
“I imagine you don’t want to talk about your injuries, but I gave your parents a quick rundown of the procedure and the prognosis if you have any questions.”
Jane puts her energy into tilting her head towards Maura, about to confirm she doesn’t want to hear any of it, when her drug-soaked brain pieces another puzzle together on its own. “That how you got their numbers?”
“Yes, we exchanged numbers in the waiting room the night of…that first night. They’ve kept me up to date on your condition and called with a few questions.”
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“Of course I did.”
They’re both uncomfortable as Jane follows up with “You remember what I told you about baseball?”
“Which part?”
“Any of it.”
“Yes. I have a very good memory.”
“Great. I’ll put any focus I can muster on you and you keep your eye on the ballgame okay? Let me know if anything changes? Mostly just keep an eye out for the score.”
“I…can do that.”
“Thanks.”
Jane thinks another smile, and this one must transmit its way to her facial muscles because Maura brightly smiles back and the terror that’s held tight to Jane’s chest, even through the haze of drugs, loosens for the first time since she stepped into that basement.
“You can rest Jane, you don’t have to entertain me. I’ll stay until your parents come back.”
“Nah, you’re the best thing to happen to me in days. At least until the Sox start winnin’.
Maura chuckles again and says “I’ve missed you in the morgue. Although my staff doesn’t flinch anymore when the door from the hallway opens.”
She diligently watches Jane and she’s nervous. She’s made a joke. She’s made maybe 2 jokes since Jane’s met her but she made a joke now, here at her hospital bed. The careful way she said it, Jane is sure she probably practiced it on the way over. It makes all the effort Jane has had to put into giving her focus worth it.
“Guess I’ll have to get better soon then, huh. Keep’em on their toes.”
Maura laughs, delighted, likely not so much at Jane’s response, but by the fact that Jane knows she was joking, and Jane smiles again as she lets her eyes drift shut.
Maura gently squeezes Jane’s bicep, as she says, struggling to maintain the same airy tone, but with a teary sincerity belying it “I am looking forward to it.”
“Me too, Maur.”
“You can rest.”
“Nah, I’ll rest when my parents get back. Just need a second.”
Maura’s hand hasn’t left it’s place resting against the inside of Jane’s elbow and it makes Jane both more sleepy and more desperate to stay awake.
“Uh oh”
That keeps her awake. “What?”
She squeezes Jane’s arm again in a gesture of comfort as she says “I’m sorry. It’s nothing serious. It’s just that the score changed, but probably not in the way you’d hoped.”
Jane instinctively turns her gaze towards the TV and sees Ryan Howard has his a two-run homer, likely pushing the game out of the Sox’s reach.
“Not serious? Our boys are gettin’ beat up worse than me, Maur.”
“You know the strength and instinctual knowledge of physics required to hit the ball at that angle and velocity…”
“Nope!”
Maura pulls her hand away and Jane immediately regrets her outburst but instead just continues “I will listen to all your boring science when one of our guys knocks it out. The announcers already went into far too much detail about Howard’s swing pre-game for my liking.”
“Whatever you say, Jane.”
“You know, if I’d known this is what it’d take for you to start calling me Jane, I woulda gone after Hoyt sooner.”
“No! That’s not what I…”
Jane instinctively raises her hand to comfort Maura before she’s hit with a blur of white gauze in her periphery and a pain shooting up her arms.
“Ow, sorry, I…”
“Jane, deep breaths.”
She takes some, and then fights once again against the weight of her eyelids as she looks Maura in the eye and says “I was kidding. It’s nice. Sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I should have gotten more comfortable with it weeks ago when you asked me to use it. I know you’ve been in and out of consciousness the last five days, but I've spent quite a bit of time talking with your parents and your doctors and it’s helped me think of you as ‘Jane’. I guess you’re right, this probably isn’t the best first non-work social setting to find ourselves in.”
Jane laughs, truly laughs, for the first time in days, and it catches her off guard. The jolt hurts her body and the strain on her throat makes her cough.
Maura is at her side with the straw at her mouth in seconds. Jane catches her breath before she takes it and Maura watches her closely.
After a few minutes of the intimacy of Maura inches away, holding a cup for her while she drinks, Jane gathers herself and asks “You were right that I can’t handle the specifics, but Maur, I know you’ll tell me the truth, will I be able to work again?”
Maura looks at her in consternation as she gently places the cup back on the side table as she carefully answers, “I don’t know. You’ll….you have a long way to go. But it’s a possibility you’ll be able to hold your old job, although that depends on a variety of factors, such as…” She must see the pleading in Jane’s eyes because she stops abruptly and then says, “Jane, you’re brilliant, you’re great with people. You’ll be able to work again, maybe even with the department, no matter what your prognosis is.
But if you're asking if you can be a homicide detective again, the answer is ‘maybe’. I’d rather not place a numerical value on the probability but it is a non-zero number. However, it will be crucial for you to follow your doctors’ orders and your physical therapy regimen closely.”
“Will you come?”
“To your PT sessions?”
“Not all of them, but maybe some of them. Keep her on her toes. Keep me on my toes. Keep my parents out of the room.” Maura laughs again, and it feels better than the morphine that’s been coursing through Jane’s system.
“Of course, homicides permitting, Detective Rizzoli.”
“I see what you did there” Jane answers as a machine beeps and more of said morphine is pushing its way through her nervous system.
Her eyes close and she can feel her face slacken. She wants to reach out for Maura but she wouldn’t have the energy even if she had use of her hands.
“It’s okay. Rest, Jane. I’ll be right here.”
“Wait! We should hang out again sometime; outside of all this I mean”, Jane manages to slur.
“I would like that very much” is the last thing she hears except for another longball off a bat and a Boston crowd cheering that she’s not sure is real.
When she wakes up, Maura is gone, and her parents are back, eating dinner with Frankie.
Jane’s chest aches in a way that has nothing to do with her injuries or her medication. The terror is creeping its way back into her chest, and before her mother even notices the heart monitor beeping, distracted by a good cannoli, another sedative is being poured into Jane’s system, and she’s feeling calmer, even though the ache doesn’t go away.
Every time she wakes up, she is looking for, longing for, something she can’t identify until her mind clears and she realizes it’s Maura. She doesn’t dwell on it, instead focusing on the pain, and her family, and baseball.
She knows Maura keeps her promises, that she’ll come back when it’s time for PT, so she resists the urge to beg her mom to call her.
Instead she just quietly waits, chest tight, for something that will make her smile again, acutely enough to shove through all the drugs. For something that will make her laugh again, even though it will hurt.
For the best friend she’s made since she was a kid.