Jane had learned how to compartmentalize death.

She knew how to put it in a little box and tuck it away in her psyche so that she could go about her day. She knew how to pull invincibility around her like a cloak.

It was difficult at first, to pretend that staring death in the face didn't scare her. She wore her false bravado like a second skin in the early days.

But then, that false bravado started to feel a little less false.

Every time she chased a perp and came out with only scrapes and bruises, every time she lived through metal scalpels piercing her skin, every time a bullet whizzed past- she felt that feeling of invincibility grow.

The horror kept it in check. The blood and breaking bones and service-dress funerals kept them all from getting too cocky.

Still, she was less careful than she should be.

It had never been something she put much thought into. Analyzing things didn't change them, so why bother?

If she spent too much time thinking about what might happen, she wouldn't be able to do her job. If you think about who might be on the other side of every door you open, if you think about the likelihood of a knife going just deep enough to kill you without the guy really trying, if you think about high speed chases ending in multi-car pile-ups, you lose the ability function.

It happened all the time, to good cops too- a cop would be doing their job well until something happened and they became crippled by the fear. She'd seen it happen when a partner got injured, or worse, killed. She'd seen it when a guy caught sight of one too many senseless murder scenes. She saw it when a new detective saw a corpse that looked just like her daughter.

Sometimes they came back from it, with time. Often, they were never the same.

Jane didn't think about it too much. It was how she could shoot herself in front of the people she loves, cares about, was able to put into action the words, "I would die for you."

Even that didn't make her feel afraid of death. It was the right thing to do, and it kept the people she loves from being harmed.

Some part of her thinks it made her just a little more fearless. Another part thinks she barely cheated death and it was probably her last chance to do so. She doubts anyone could be that lucky a second time around.

But all that bravado and cockiness and her willingness to stare death in the face faded instantly into oblivion when her phone rang and a nurse from Tufts Medical Center on the other side asked if she was Jane Rizzoli.

It was nine at night. She wasn't on call- it had to be personal and the churning of her stomach felt like too much to bear.

"Yeah," Jane swallowed the roiling panic in her gut, a list of all the people she loved and the ways they might have been injured, killed, filing through her brain. "That's me."

"I'm calling about Maura Isles," the nurse informed her. "You're listed as her priority contact."

Blood pounded in Jane's ears, her heart beating too fast for her to breathe. She felt nauseous and she barely restrained herself, barely kept herself from screaming at the woman, tell me what's wrong!

"Ms. Isles was in an accident," there was commotion in the background. "She's critical but stable."

"She's ok?" Jane croaked, her only thought, if Maura dies, then so will I.

She could hear the pity in the other woman's voice and it made her stomach drop.

"She is stable," the woman repeated. "You might want to come down and see her."

"I'll be right there," Jane breathed in a rush, already moving towards the door of her apartment.

Jane stumbled to the car and drove to the hospital in a blurry panic. Absently, she thought to call her mother.

"Ma," she skipped a greeting, only then realizing how heavy her breathing was. "It's Maura."

"Is everything alright?" the panic was clear in Angela's voice, and Jane's helplessness increased ten-fold.

"I dunno," Jane replied. "I'm on my way to Tufts now. She was in an accident."

"What can I do?" Angela asked, and Jane silently gave thanks for her mother.

"Right now," Jane sighed. "Not much. But you could go in and check on Bass, Ma. And call the guys. And maybe put some things together for her. And I'll call you if I need anything else."

"Alright," Angela agreed. "I love you Janie. Call me as soon as you know anything."

"Love you too, Ma," she responded, hanging up as she pulled into the lot.

She parked in the police lot, not at all concerned at the illegality or impropriety of it, and hurried inside.

No one in the hospital seemed to be rushed or distraught and it grated on her nerves. Didn't they know that Maura Isles was hurt? They should be panicking, crying, hurrying to find a way to make her better, lining up to take care of her.

The elevator was agonizingly slow and she felt her anxiety ratchet up with every floor they stopped at.

Eventually she reached the desk in the Critical Care ward and she was so out of breath she had to pause for a minute before she could identify herself.

"Jane Rizzoli," she panted. "I'm here… to see… Maura Isles."

The young man sitting at the desk smiled softly at her and typed something into his computer.

"She's in room 5673," he said. "This is a visitor's badge for you. You can go down this hallway and take a left and you'll be there. I'll have a doctor come speak to you as soon as possible."

He opened the main doors with the casual push of a button and Jane felt like she was being admitted through the gates of hell. There was no way of knowing what awaited her and the words of the nurse from the phone keep repeating in her head.

Critical but stable, critical but stable, critical but stable.

Jane found the room, the whiteboard next to the door labeled, Isles, M. She wanted to scribble it out and correct them, to tell them this was not just "M. Isles," this was Dr. Maura Isles, intelligent, sophisticated, gorgeous, compassionate, funny, one of a kind Dr. Isles.

With a fortifying breath, Jane pressed open the door and her breath lodged in her throat.

Maura resembled one of the bodies in the morgue.

Laying on the hospital bed, her face stark and pale, her hands bandaged, tubes in her nose and a mask over her face, she looked like the living dead.

Jane rushed to Maura's side and collapsed into the chair next to the bed, not wanting to touch her for fear of hurting her but needing so badly to feel that her skin was warm and that she was alive.

She settled for Maura's bicep, which was slightly scraped, but seemed to otherwise be ok. Jane wrapped a hand around Maura's arm and rested her forehead there, trying to breathe normally.

"She's alive," Jane whispered to herself. Then repeated it a few times for good measure. She matched her breathing to Maura's and felt tears begin to overwhelm her.

A soft knock at the door startled her out of her skin and she jumped back up from her chair but didn't move her hand.

An older man with a kind but worn face entered the room.

"I'm Dr. Friedman," he introduced himself and Jane accepted the hand he proffered, measuring his firm, steady grip. "Are you Ms. Rizzoli?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded. "What happened?"

"There was a fire apparently," he glanced over at Maura, a soft look in his eyes. "In a nearby building to her home. There was a young mother and her baby in a second floor apartment and Ms. Isles went in to help them before the fire department arrived. She managed to get them both out but not without a cost to herself. She inhaled a lot of smoke and her hands and legs have suffered some minor damage. The skin should heal, if not fully then very close. We're mostly worried about the damage to her respiratory system."

"Is she in a coma?" croaked Jane, her gravelly voice barely recognizable to her own ears.

"No," Dr. Friedman shook his head. "She's under a sedative to giver her body a chance to heal. She should wake up in next the few days, of her own volition. Her body just needs time to heal at this point."

"So she's not going to die?" Jane's voice was barely audible.

"No," he turned to meet Jane's eyes. "I don't think she is going to die."

Jane took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.

"Do you have any questions I can answer?" he asked.

"So her hands are going to be ok?" Jane looked down at the pristine swaths of white cloth wrapped around Maura's hands.

"They should be," he looked down at the chart in his hand. "The burns are from grabbing something hot, likely a door or a piece of furniture that was blocking the way. Her left hand is hardly damaged, and her right hand is likely to heal completely, given proper care."

Jane didn't respond. Maura's hands were vital to her career. If Maura couldn't do her job, she'd be devastated. And, selfishly, Jane thought about what would happen if she could no longer work with the M.E. every day.

"I should make my rounds," Dr. Friedman's voice gently pulled her attention back to the present. "But if you have any questions or need anything, please don't hesitate to call me. Here's my number."

"Thank you," Jane shook his hand again, accepting the business card he extended towards her. "I appreciate it."

She hesitated, feeling embarrassed and ridiculous but too needy not to add, "is it ok if I hold her hand? Will it hurt her?"

"If you're gentle," he smiled softly, "you can hold her left hand. Just try to keep your hands as clean as possible."

"Thanks," Jane blushed a little and he turned to go. Jane slid her hand into Maura's and tears threatened her. "Thank you," she said again.

Dr. Friedman paused at the door. "I'll be back to check on you later," he replied.

When they were alone again, Jane allowed her tears to fall.

She held Maura's hand as tightly as she dared and cried for what felt like an eternity. It was a mixture of fear and anxiety and relief and she felt surprisingly drained afterwards. Without releasing Maura's hand she grabbed the phone next to the bed and called her mother, briefly relaying Maura's status.

Angela offered to come to the hospital but Jane declined. It was late and there wasn't anything they could do.

And selfishly, Jane wanted to be the one to hold vigil over Maura. Wanted to be the one who was there in case she woke up.

An hour passed before a nurse came in to check on Maura.

"Hi," the nurse greeted her.

"Hey," Jane smiled weakly. "I'm Jane."

"Carol," the nurse replied. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Jane lied. "How's she doing?"

Carol checked the fluid levels and monitors surrounding Maura. "She's doing really well," Carol assured her.

"When can all that stuff come off her face?" Jane asked, indicating the mask over Maura's nose and mouth.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Carol responded. "But it's difficult to say. Her lungs need some time to rest after all the smoke they've processed. She seems pretty healthy so her body won't have to work too hard to heal itself."

"Right," Jane sighed, the corner of her lips lifting. Maura would be bragging about the benefits of yoga right now if she could talk. "Thanks."

Carol nodded, and Jane could feel the woman's eyes on her.

"She'll probably be alright if you want to step out," Carol said evenly. Jane felt a hint that she should go home brewing in the other woman's tone. It was nearly midnight, after all, and she wasn't family.

"I don't want her to be alone," Jane tried to head off any such suggestions.

"I could sit with her for a minute if you want," Carol offered, surprising Jane. "You look like you could use some coffee and a bite to eat."

Jane softened, glad the other woman seemed to understand.

"She won't wake up while I'm gone?" Jane looked at Maura, thought about how badly she wanted to be there when Maura woke up.

"I can't guarantee it," Carol admitted gently. "But it's extremely unlikely."

Jane thought fleetingly that Maura would enjoy Carol's unwillingness to draw conclusions.

Nodding, Jane stood. Her body protested and it was difficult for her to let go of Maura's hand. When she finally released the bandaged palm, her heart raced.

"I'll be right back," Jane asserted firmly.

"I'll stay," Carol replied, gentle understanding radiating out of her eyes.

In the hallway, Jane took a minute to pull herself together. The cafeteria was deserted other than the lone woman working the register. Jane bought a cup of black coffee, stepped outside for a minute, took a few deep breaths of the city air. She took a second to respond to a flurry of texts from the guys about their concern for Maura.

When she came back to Maura's room, she felt much more like herself. Maura was strong and obstinate; if proper care was what would make her better then Jane would do whatever it took to get it for her.

Carol smiled and Jane chatted with her for a minute about Maura, about how wonderful Maura was. It was refreshing and it reminded her that Maura was alive, that she was going to wake up and come back to her.

"A few years ago my wife was in a car accident," Carol said with a soft voice, her eyes getting lost in the memory. "I remember how worried I was about her. It helped that people were so understanding. If I can do anything for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks," Jane smiled and Carol left the room.

It was only a few minutes later, Maura's hand resting gently in hers, that Jane realized what Carol was insinuating.

Carol could see that Jane loved Maura.

It didn't take her any time to realize it didn't upset her. She'd known for a while that she was in love with Maura. She just hadn't quite figured out what, if anything, to do about it.

The fact that other people might see it, especially given the current circumstances, was terrifying but not entirely surprising. Sometimes she thought Angela could see it too.

Jane had always been interested in men, still was, on occasion, drawn to their roughness and their masculinity. It was comforting and safe and enjoyable. But she had been attracted to women before as well. It was not a new or totally foreign concept to her. It wasn't something she put much thought into, and although she had found women attractive she had never found one she wanted to be with.

Until she fell in love with Maura.

Maura was strange and awkward, and far too smart for her own good. She was gentle and kind and gorgeous. She was considerate and eager and loving.

But she was also, as far as Jane knew, straight.

And therein lay the problem.

Because Jane would rather have some of Maura than have nothing at all.

She had literally taken a bullet to try and save this woman. Losing her because Maura didn't return her feelings would be so, so much worse. A bullet wound heals- that wound would never fully close.

It used to scare her, the way she felt about Maura, but now, she had only grown more fearless because of it. Maura made her feel confident and intelligent and invincible.

Gently, Jane reached up and brushed an errant lock of hair out of Maura's face, her fingers lingering on the soft skin.

She scooted her chair as close to the bed as possible and with one hand wrapped in Maura's, she rested her head on the pillow next to Maura's head and closed her eyes.

Carol and another nurse, Samantha, cycled through the room every few hours. Jane woke up each time and exchanged pleasantries, watched as they monitored Maura's condition, scribbled notes, and tried to encourage her.

When the shift changed Jane was still there, sitting vigil, trying valiantly to stay awake in case anything changed. By ten the next morning Jane had slept a total of four restless hours. She could only imagine how ragged she looked.

A new doctor came in to check on Maura and told Jane they hoped to remove the breathing tube that afternoon.

Jane went to the bathroom and her reflection startled her. In her Sox jersey, her hair wild and untamed, dark shadows rimming her eyes, she looked like a zombie. She looked worse than Maura.

She asked a nurse to wait with Maura so she could call her mother.

"She's probably okay for a minute," the nurse suggested gently.

"I just don't want her to be alone," Jane replied. "If you're busy, I understand."

"No," the nurse smiled softly, and Jane suspected she could see what Carol saw, what everyone but Maura could see. "It's alright. I can wait with her."

Outside the building, Jane tapped her foot impatiently while the phone rang.

"Janie," her mother's breathless voice greeted her. "How's she doing?"

"Ok, Ma," Jane replied. "They're gonna take the breathing tubes out this afternoon and hopefully she'll wake up soon. Look Ma, I don't want to leave but I could use some fresh clothes."

"Say no more," Angela jumped in. "I'll bring you some right away."

"And nothing fancy," Jane warned. "Just some jeans and a shirt. And my toothbrush."

"Alright," Angela sighed. "Although it wouldn't kill you to look nice when Maura wakes up. She always looks her best."

"Ma," Jane groaned. "Are you kidding? She was in a fire. I don't think how either of us looks is a big concern right now."

"I'm just saying," Angela pushed. "It might be nice for you to look presentable when she wakes up. She always looked good when you were in the hospital."

Jane opened her mouth to respond but something in her gut clenched.

Maura had stayed with Jane the whole time she was hospitalized after she was shot. And Angela was right, when Jane had come to, Maura had been breathtaking.

"Fine," Jane sighed. "You can bring a hairbrush too."

Angela laughed victoriously and Jane laughed too, a bubble popping inside her, letting something important out to be free.

"Frankie and the boys have been asking me when they can see her," Angela added gently.

"Not yet Ma," Jane said. "She wouldn't want it. When she's awake they can visit."

"I told them that," Angela agreed. "Now you get back in there. I'll be over in a few hours with everything."

"Thanks Ma," Jane replied. "I love you."

"I love you too Janie," Angela responded. "Say hi to Maura for me."

Jane hung up and headed back inside the hospital, wondering just how much Angela Rizzoli knew about her daughter's feelings. If she suspected how Jane felt, she seemed to be ok with it.

Part of Jane wanted to ask her mother, but she was not quite sure what her question was. She wanted absolution for loving Maura. She wasn't worried about her immortal soul, her Catholic guilt, but she loved her mother. She didn't want to disappoint her.

Still, nothing could stop her from loving Maura.

She tried.

She tried hard, when she first realized the depth of her feelings. She tried to focus on Maura's faults, tried to flirt with more men and throw herself further into her work, tried to alienate the strange, wonderful M.E., but it was hopeless.

Her love for Maura was something seeded in her very soul. It took root and grew and filled every fiber of her being. It was so much a part of her now that she'd never be rid of it, not that she'd ever want to be.

Loving Maura made her feel alive in a way nothing else ever had.

By the time Angela arrived, Jane was having trouble staying awake. Her restless night and the stress of it all were making her eyes flutter closed without her permission. When Angela came into the room, Jane jolted upright.

"Janie," Angela approached her with arms open, emptying her hands of all the things she has brought with her.

They hugged and Jane relaxed into the embrace for a minute, allowing the comfort of her mother's tight embrace.

"Oh Maura," Angela breathed, approaching the bed. Angela stroked Maura's forehead softly and placed a gentle kiss there.

It made something in Jane's gut pull tight.

"I brought you some things," Angela picked up one of the bags and handed it to Jane.

"Thanks Ma," Jane looked at the multitude of other things Angela brought in with her. "What's all that?"

"Just a few other things," Angela began rifling through the bags. She pulled out a large thermos of coffee and myriad Tupperware containers. "You get cleaned up and I'll handle this." She ushered Jane into the bathroom with a shooing motion.

Jane did as she was told, stepping into the bathroom. She did her best to freshen up, putting on the clean clothes, noting that the blouse was one of Maura's favorites.

When she emerged, Angela had set out lunch and coffee for her. There were flowers next to Maura's bed and Jane recognized a small bag from Maura's house next to the door.

"Much better," Angela crooned, glancing at her daughter. "That's Maura's favorite shirt on you."

Jane wanted to ask how her mother knew but she didn't, instead sitting at the fragrant plate of food her mother had set out.

"I'm sure you haven't eaten anything," her mother offered by way of explanation. "If you pass out you won't do anyone any good. So eat up."

Jane again did as she was told, and while she ate her mother told her stories and tried to make her laugh and it wasn't until she was done eating and on her second cup of coffee that she noticed her mother was holding Maura's hand.

Tears welled in Jane's eyes as she looked at their interwoven fingers.

"She's tough Janie," Angela caught Jane looking, held her eyes. "And maybe you needed a wake-up call."

Jane swallowed harshly.

"A wake up call?" she echoed skeptically.

"Maura had hers when you were shot," Angela replied gently. "I was wondering when you'd figure things out."

"It's not that I didn't have them figured out," Jane croaked. "It's that I didn't know… what to do about it."

She paused, breaking her mother's gaze.

"I still don't," she added.

"Well that's silly," Angela said, though her voice was laced with understanding. "You've never been shy about what you want before."

"This is different," she swore. The vehemence in Jane's gravelly voice startled them both. "This is… different."

"I know that," Angela nodded. "I can tell by the way you look at her. I know it's different. What I don't know is why that means it's not worth fighting for."

"It is," Jane replied heatedly. "I'd…"

"Die for her?" Angela suggested softly, almost inaudibly. "She knows that. We all do- we've seen it.

Jane absently touched the scar on her abdomen.

"She knows it and she's still here, Jane. She might not have a chance to prove she'd die for you but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel it," Angela continued. "You're a smart young woman Jane, and I'm proud of who you are. I will always be proud of you. I want you to be happy, and loved. I know that you're loved," Angela's eyes skittered to Maura's sleeping face. "Now I just need to know that you're happy."

"Ma," Jane whispered.

"I'm not going to say anything," Angela assured her. "You know I don't like to meddle." She grinned, and Jane couldn't help but return the smile. "But maybe you should say something, so that you two can stop dancing around each other and start being happy together."

"You think it's…" Jane isn't sure quite how to phrase her question.

"Let me just ask you this," Angela came to her rescue. "If she didn't wake up from this, would you feel confident that she knows just how much she means to you?

Angela stood, kissing Maura and then Jane on the forehead.

"I love you Jane," she gathered her things. "Call me if anything changes."

"I will," Jane didn't look away from Maura's face. "Love you, Ma."

Angela slipped out of the room and Jane sighed.

Normally she'd talk to Maura about this. That alone spoke volumes to her. Maura was the person she turned to for everything, good or bad. And she expected, and wanted, Maura to come to her in the same way.

Jane had never had a friend like Maura. She'd had good friends, best friends even, but this was different. This was a no-holds barred kinda deal. This was an all in friendship. Jane had come to rely on it, to need it.

She needed Maura.

By the time the doctor came to remove the tubes from Maura's face, Jane's thoughts were hopelessly confused.

Angela's words gave her hope, but fear and doubt still pulled at her.

The doctor explained what he was going to do and Jane nodded, grabbing Maura's hand in her own. They removed the tubes and Jane waited breathlessly, despite being told Maura would not wake up for many more hours, maybe days.

She was surprised at the crushing disappointment she felt when Maura's eyes remained shut.

"It's normal for her to remain asleep," the nurse tried to assure her. "She's still on a fair amount of sedatives, and her body needs time to heal."

Jane agreed absently.

She wanted to hear Maura's voice so badly it hurt.

She asked if Maura could hear her. The nurse said there was debate about it, but that she personally thought yes- that it might even help.

That was enough for Jane.

"Hey Maura," she began, feeling a little ridiculous. "Funny meetin' you here." She winced and wondered why she was having so much trouble. Even if Maura could hear her, it was not as if the other woman was going to judge or analyze her.

"I want…" Jane hesitated. What did she want?

"I want you to wake up," she tried again. "I've had my wake-up call and I'm ready to talk to you about it. There are a lot of things I need to talk to you about. Things we need to talk about. I need you to help me figure out some things."

Jane shifted impossibly closer to Maura, playing gently with the other woman's hair.

"You still look beautiful," she laughed softly. "I know you're gonna wake up, and I'm gonna tell you all this again, but if it's ok with you, I could use a practice run. So bear with me…"

Pausing, she took a deep fortifying breath and took the plunge.

"I love you, Maura," Jane admitted. The world did not stop turning. The sun did not stop shining. The earth did not open up and swallow her. So Jane forged on.

"I love you more than anyone in the world," she continued. "I want to be with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You mean more to me than you could ever begin to imagine."

Maura did not shift, did not wake up.

Jane couldn't stop herself now.

"I've loved you for a long time," she admitted. "Maybe from the minute I met you- I just didn't realize that's what it was. You're intelligent and funny and warm and caring and no one has ever made me feel the way you can just by smiling. You make me feel jealous and possessive and I hate that I've had to watch you date other people. I want you to be mine. Just mine. You deserve the best, and maybe I'm not the best, I know- you should be with someone gorgeous and intelligent and cultured and rich, someone who can give you the life you deserve. I may not be the best but I am willing to try. I'm willing to give you everything I've got."

Jane lightly stroked Maura's cheek.

"I'm willing to try my hardest to be what you need, to come as close as I can to giving you that life you deserve. And maybe I can't give you all that fancy stuff but I will love you more than anyone. I will do my best to give you everything you want, everything you need."

The only response was the beeping of Maura's heart monitor. Jane was undeterred. Nurses came and went, Angela called to check on her.

Maura's parents called and spoke with Jane but they were in Paris and it would be another few days before they could be in Boston. They didn't seem surprised by Jane's presence and Jane wondered about that.

Through it all, Jane kept talking. Like a dam has burst she kept speaking to Maura, her voice hushed in the hospital room.

She told her stories from her childhood. She told her tales from her rookie years on the force. She revealed things she'd never told anyone.

Three days passed and Maura still hadn't awoken. Jane tried to keep a lid on the panic inside her. They said she would wake up when her body was ready.

Angela came to the hospital a few more times, Frankie in tow. Jane fielded a steady stream of well-wishing phone calls.

On the fourth day, Angela and Frankie staged an intervention to get her to go home. She refused obstinately. They eventually convinced the nursing staff to roll a cot into the room so that Jane could sleep properly.

That night Jane fell asleep still talking, her hand clutched tightly in Maura's. When she woke up the next morning, light peeking through the blinds, she felt like she had been sucker-punched in the gut.

Waking up next to Maura, gentle light streaming in through the blinds, Jane wanted to kiss her awake. She wanted to see those green eyes again, to feel the radiant glow of Maura's gaze on her face.

Without warning, she found herself crying.

Lying on the cot next to Maura's bed, tears leaked down her cheeks and she felt utterly hopeless. She wanted to crawl into Maura's bed and wrap herself around the smaller woman. She wanted to trade places; she wished she were injured so that Maura could be healthy.

"Maura," she grazed the other woman's cheek with her free hand. "Baby, please wake up. I miss you. I love you. Please, wake up."

But Maura's face was impassive, the steady beat of her heart monitor echoing in Jane's ears.

Jane nuzzled her face against Maura's cheek, eyes closed. She kissed Maura's cheek and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

"I love you," she repeated.

It was awkward, straddling the crevice between her cot and Maura's bed but the exhaustion was enough to overcome that. She fell back to sleep with her face nestled in Maura's neck, one hand in hers and the other on Maura's shoulder.

Piercing green met her the next time she awoke. It startled her to consciousness immediately.

Maura's eyes were open.

"Maura?" she wondered, panic and hope warring in her voice.

"Jane," Maura rasped. "May I have some water? My throat hurts."

Jane pressed the buzzer for the nurse and wiped her hand across her eyes, doing nothing to stem the tears.

"Why are you crying?" Maura asked, concern clear in her feeble tone.

"I missed you," Jane replied, her voice watery.

A nurse burst in and Dr. Friedman came close behind. They offered Maura some ice chips and ran a battery of tests and Jane stood helplessly nearby, her hand clutching Maura's tightly.

Jane could tell Maura's tolerance for the flurry of activity was quickly depleting. She encouraged the doctor to finish up and leave them in peace. He smiled and wrapped up his exam.

"Can I speak with you for a minute, Jane?" he queried.

Jane nodded, swallowing. She stepped away from the bed but snapped back a bit when Maura's hand didn't release hers.

Maura blushed slightly. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"I'll be right back," Jane assured her, smiling down at Maura, kissing her impulsively on the forehead.

In the hallway, Dr. Friedman looked worn but happy. "It's wonderful that she seems to be so cognizant. She slept a little longer than we were thinking, but I'd say she's in a much better place because of it. We can transfer her to a lower-care ward and then another day or two after that she'll be able to go home. For now, she needs to rest up a bit more. We'll try to get those bandages off her hands and get some physical therapy for them today or tomorrow, depending on how she feels. You really should consider going home for a bit of proper rest."

"I smell that bad, huh?" Jane deflected.

"She's going to be just fine," he responded. "You need to take care of yourself."

"I am," Jane replied. "By being here."

"Alright," Dr. Friedman nodded. "Suit yourself. I'll be by later to check on her. Try to get her to sleep again. Rest is the best medicine now."

"Thanks," Jane replied, shaking his hand appreciatively.

Inside the room, Carol was talking to Maura, whose eyes flew to the door when it opened. The lines on her face relaxed when she saw Jane, the look in her eyes softened.

"Do you need anything else?" Carol asked.

"No, thank you, Carol, " Maura responded.

Standing next to the door, Jane felt suddenly awkward.

"Well, then I'll be back later," Carol said, leaving them alone.

Jane found herself staring at Maura, their eyes locked. She broke the gaze to sweep over the M.E.'s form. She was sitting up slightly, wide-eyed and disheveled, a bit more color in her cheeks.

"I must look like a wreck," Maura laughed uncomfortably.

"You look beautiful," Jane blurted, blushing.

Maura held out her left hand in invitation. Jane resumed the spot she had spent the last long days occupying, her hand wrapped in Maura's.

"What happened?" Maura asked, resting her head back on the pillow and closing her eyes.

For a minute, Jane didn't answer, too enraptured by the sight before her.

"Jane?" Maura's eyes opened questioningly.

"Fire," Jane croaked finally, clearing her throat. "You were in that fire. You saved Ms. Stevens and her baby- they were stuck."

Recognition showed in Maura's eyes. "That's right," she agreed. "I remember. It was so hot."

Jane's gut clenched. Everything she had spent the last few days saying to Maura threatened to spill out in a rush.

"Jane?" Maura's soft voice startled her.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you crying earlier?" Maura asked, her eyes still closed.

Jane thought about confessional, about penance, about forgiveness and absolution.

"I told you," she admitted. "I missed you."

"Carol said you haven't let my side from the minute I got here," Maura challenged gently, her voice curious.

"No Maura," Jane allowed. "I haven't."

"Well," Maura sounded confused. "How could you miss me?"

"Come on Maur," Jane shifted awkwardly. "Your body isn't what makes you… you."

"Tell me what you missed," Maura pleaded softly.

Hesitating, Jane looked down at the tips of Maura's fingers where they peeked out of the gauze and rested against her own skin.

"Please," Maura breathed.

"I missed your voice," Jane conceded. "I missed listening to you spout facts about everything and nothing. I missed your laughter. I missed making you laugh. I missed seeing you put together and ready to take on the world. I missed… you."

Maura's hand squeezed hers and Jane's head bowed, the torrent of emotions inside her threatening to pull her under.

"I missed you too," Maura said softly. Jane felt a tear escape.

Maura brushed it away with her bandaged hand before pulling Jane's head down to rest on her chest. Jane shuddered and breathed Maura in.

"Oh god, Maura," she whispered, her voice trembling. "If anything had happened to you, if you hadn't woke up…"

"But I am awake," Maura soothed. "I'm going to be fine."

"If you hadn't though," Jane continued, undeterred. "You never woulda known… I wouldn't have gotten to tell you…"

"Known what?" Maura prompted gently.

"I love you," Jane whispered.

"I love you too," Maura replied easily. "You're very important to me."

Jane didn't know how to correct Maura. She loved her, sure, but she meant so say, I'm in love with you.

Fear choked her. She had always been better with actions than with words.

Tilting her head up, she pressed a kiss to Maura's jaw. Maura swallowed harshly. Neither woman spoke. The softly beeping monitors sounded deafening.

Jane pressed another kiss to Maura's soft skin, this one near the corner of her lips.

"No," she rumbled. "I love you."

"Oh," Maura sighed breathily, her neck craning imperceptibly to give Jane better access.

It wasn't necessarily encouragement but wasn't exactly a "stop" either. So Jane kissed her again, her lips brushing against Maura's temple. Maura's fingers tightened around her hand.

Jane kissed the tip of Maura's nose, her eyelids, her forehead. Maura emitted a soft, needy sound that made Jane's entire body ache.

"Jane," she whispered, and it sounded like a prayer.

Jane pulled back and met Maura's gaze. There were questions there, lots of them, but behind that she could see the desire, the love, the acceptance, shining out at her.

Leaning down, Jane brushed her lips against Maura's. Maura opened her lips slightly, capturing one of Jane's between both of hers. The crackle of chemistry was there but it was shrouded by the need for comfort, for connection, for acceptance.

When she pulled back, Jane rested her forehead against Maura's, eyes closed.

"I love you," Jane repeated.

"I love you too," Maura responded. Jane's eyes flew open and Maura cocked her head slightly. "You're surprised by that?"

"Yeah," Jane blurted. "I didn't… I thought you were… How come?"

"The human body and mind are very complex systems," Maura began, and Jane put a finger over Maura's lips.

"Maura," she warned, a smile on her face. Maura grinned and kissed Jane's fingertip.

"I thought I couldn't have all of you," Maura said simply. "And something is better than nothing."

Jane swallowed the welling emotions that were threatening to choke her.

"But it appears now," Maura added. "That I can have everything."

"Yes," Jane breathed. "I was afraid before, Maura, but I'm not now."

"I'm still afraid," Maura admitted. Jane's heart constricted, and she brushed Maura's forehead with a soft hand, trying to smooth the worry lines.

"Why?" Jane asked.

"I'm not…" Maura struggled to articulate her fear. Jane smiled softly to encourage her. "I'm not good with people," she said. It's not what she wanted to say but she lost the nerve to tell Jane she'd die without her.

"You're good with me," Jane retorted firmly. "And you're plenty good with people. Ma, Frankie, Korsak, Frost, they all love you."

"I'm," Maura averted her gaze. "I'm afraid of losing you, Jane."

"Don't be," Jane said lightly. Maura met her eyes and was surprised by the soft look of love, the way it was rimmed with an almost frightening resolve. "I'm never going anywhere."

"Ever?" Maura pressed.

"Until death," Jane swore. It rang through the room like a wedding vow and Jane wanted to take it back almost instantly. It seemed like too much to say to a woman who only days ago merely regarded you as a friend.

But then Maura grinned and her warm laughter filled the room.

"I thought I was the only one," she explained. "It's nice to know you feel the same. It's physically impossible, I know, but it makes me feel lighter."

Jane laughed too, and kissed Maura again for good measure.

The M.E. made a breathless, moaning sound and Jane wanted to crawl up on the bed with her.

"I love you," Jane said again.

"I love you too," Maura replied.

Jane knew, without a doubt, she'd never shake that invincible feeling now.

With Maura by her side, she could take on the world. She could do anything.

And she fully intended to.