Post-Its

Chapter 6 - Without You

Chapter 6 – Without You

Maura sat, alongside Frankie and Angela, both at either side of her. Frost and Korsak stood opposite them silently, a scattering of officers down the hallway, Jane's fellow brothers in blue. All had come together for one thing; Jane.

All were waiting for news. It had been over 6 hours since they'd taking Jane into the operating room, since they'd had any sort of update as to her condition.

Hearing the familiar swish of doors from down the corridor Maura looked up seeing the Doctor who'd been Jane's attending coming through. She took in the slight drop in his shoulders, the weariness in his eyes, the slow steps he made towards them, those steps faltering when he looked up and caught sight of her watching him and she knew. She knew even before he opened his mouth, his eyes looking everywhere but her own the closer he came.

He stopped in front of her taking off his scrub cap, his scrubs held a smattering of reddish-brown stains which she couldn't not call blood no matter what way it was looked at.

"No," she whispered. Meeting her gaze, there was only sympathy in his eyes. Sympathy and a great deal of remorse. Giving patients such news was never easy. She knew that. It was one of the reasons why she preferred to work with the dead. That and the fact that the dead were simply easier to be around than the living.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Isles."

She shook her head. "No," she said again, her tone firm, more for her own benefit than anyone else's. Angela's unusually quiet nature, took on the air of despondency and grief as she broke down beside her. Frankie's hand, somehow in the course of seconds, snaked into her own. Officers took off their caps in respect.

"We...she...we did the best we could," was the best he could come up with. A small yell from across the hall followed by one dark fist meeting the wall was the only evidence of emotion from Jane's partner whilst Korsak's eyes seemed glued to the ceiling, a spot up there proving to be one of extreme interest.

"I want to see her."

The doctor gulped slightly, his eyes trained on anything else but the family in front of him. He was terrified, knowing that there would be hell to pay for what he was about to say next. "She's not there, Doctor Isles." Maura's breath hitched at the words. Her hands clenched into fists as she somehow forced her next words out.

"I-I know she's not there, I know she's g-gone but I have to see her. You don't understand. I can't leave her alone in that room. She hates hospitals. I need to see her." She was starting to panic, hysteria taking over. Jane couldn't be left alone. Ever. Angela's cries only increased in volume.

"No, I mean...I...the FBI took her body away." Maura flinched at his words. Jane could never be just a body. She was full of life, and soul, and laughter. She couldn't be gone.

It was only then his words penetrated her skull. The FBI had taken Jane. She was gone. It wasn't enough that the cause of this whole catastrophe was the FBI themselves, that if Dean hadn't interfered Jane wouldn't have had to be in Paddy's room with the Agent Connor, that Jane was dead, but they had to take her body too?

There was a slow coil deep within her stomach. She flexed her hands noticing the slight the tremble when she did. Quickly, she fisted them again.

Frankie himself was livid. No. He was beyond livid. He was so mad that given the opportunity he felt like storming the fibbies headquarters and shooting every Tom, Dick and Harry there."That's her fiancé you've just taken away! My sister, her daughter, their partner!" Frankie interjected enraged, pointing at each one of them in turn. "What the fuck gives you the right?! How the hell could you think it would be ok to just take her away?! You could've at least have let us say goodbye!" Korsak placed a worn hand on the man. His eyes were kind and held a great deal of understanding but at the same time, they also spoke volumes about how it wouldn't get any of them anywhere.

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. "The trauma your sister suffered having been shot at such close range was catastrophic. It did a lot of damage and," he said, going to answer his question, "as my orders that it was now an FBI case came from higher up..."

Maura zoned out, only one thing on the forefront of her mind. Jane was gone.

Gone.

She glanced up the corridor in the direction the doctor had come before getting up and walking down. She needed to be there, if only to see if she could still feel her detective.


A tiny blast of cold air alerted the nurse inside the operating theatre that she was no longer alone. She looked up from her cleaning in surprise. "Doctor Isles.." The woman in the doorway didn't seem to register her presence. "I'll..err...I'll give you some space."

Maura looked round the cold white sterile room before her eyes fell on the gurney in the centre, the sides littered with instruments and bloody bandages and right in the middle, the imprint of Jane.

She shuddered, a cold icy feeling filling her veins. Slowly, she made her way over coming to a stop a few feet from the bed. She glanced down at the instruments beside and stretched out a trembling hand to the one instrument that echoed familiarity: the trusty scalpel. Curling her hand round it, she lifted it up, seeing the specks of blood where it had cut into Jane, most probably to retrieve the bullets, at worse for the purpose of getting in to sort out a bleed and clotting the internal tear. Her vision strayed to the endless rolls of bandage that had come undone in an attempt to soak in the blood. She snapped.

Incensed, she flung the scalpel across the room, the bowl of instruments and trolley table following only seconds after before she fell on her knees and promptly burst into tears. We were supposed to have forever. Minutes ticked by before the soft sounds of the grief-stricken woman abated. Sniffling, she looked around the room at the mayhem she had caused and bit back further tears.

Picking herself off the floor, Maura made her way to the gurney where she ran a gentle hand over the lingering warmth that remained. Taking off her heels, she climbed on top and lay down.

Curling into a fetal position, she noticed how the smell of lavender lingered. She was here. Hands underneath her head, she curled into herself tighter closing her eyes. She was home.

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