Title: Seven Minutes
Author: cj2017
Rating: T
Category: Hurt/comfort. Ep cont. for When The Gun Goes… So big ol' spoilers for anyone who's not seen the finale.
Notes:Never one to leave a bandwagon un-jumped on and just in case the Powers that Be decide to skip ahead at the start of season 2, I thought I'd have a go at filling in the gaps. Huge thanks to Cat my long-suffering beta. My lovely American beta (the one who takes out all my unwitting Britishisms!) isn't in this fandom, so feel free to shout out any glaring errors and I'll get them changed. Feedback always welcome.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue.
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Seven Minutes
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Jane Rizzoli's life had always teetered along the fine line that divides courage and sheer stupidity. In the eighth grade she had climbed onto the roof of a derelict building to rescue a stray kitten. One wrong step had plunged her and the kitten through a shattered tile to land a full story below. Her friends had eventually found her, covered in dust and filth, the kitten curled contentedly on her chest. Her leg had been fractured in two places but she had managed not to make a sound; she hadn't wanted to scare the cat. Years later she had followed a scream into a darkened basement without waiting for back-up. It was a decision that had brought her more scars, matching, crescent-shaped etchings on her hands that itched when she was nervous and ached deep in the bone when the weather turned. She had tried to be careful since then, had tried to be more circumspect, to take the time to weigh up her options and reign in the headstrong impulses that tended to get her into so much trouble. But there were still occasions when, despite all of her good intentions, it just didn't work out like that.
In the heat of the mid-afternoon sun, as she lay where she had fallen with her face pressed to Marino's arm, Jane breathed in the cloying stink of crappy cologne and violent death and wondered which side of the line she had landed on this time.
A stunned couple of seconds passed, sounds muted by the proximity of the gunshot, before she heard the rapid tapping of heels heading towards her and then felt Maura's hand resting warm and clammy on her shoulder.
"Jane? Oh God." Maura's voice was high-pitched with fear. Without thinking, Jane tried to move, to roll over and reassure her best friend, but nothing really cooperated and her chest heaved with panic because if Maura was here then she wasn't with Frankie and all of this had been for nothing.
Kneeling on the sidewalk, Maura understood in an instant that the distress creasing Jane's face had nothing to do with the bullet she had just fired through herself and everything to do with the reason she had resorted to such a dire course of action in the first place.
"It's okay, it's okay. The medics are with him. SWAT escorted them in." Maura watched the terror ease from Jane's eyes, to be replaced by pain when she turned Jane gently onto her back. "Oh honey, what did you do?"
Blood already covered the front of Jane's shirt, but a steady trail was dripping down onto the road and Maura quickly realized that the exit wound was the main source of the hemorrhage. To her left, Korsak was screaming for an ambulance, and above her Frost's murmur of apology undercut the older man's demands as he disentangled Marino's body and dragged it away. She let them both do their jobs and focused on hers.
"Jane, I need to try and stop this bleeding." The nervous uncertainty that had stilled her hand with Frankie was nowhere to be seen; her fingers moved firmly over the smooth skin of Jane's back until they found the ragged mess of flesh slightly higher up her torso than the entrance wound.
"Here, use this." She looked up as Frost handed her his shirt. She nodded in thanks, balling it up and pressing it hard against the gaping hole that still pulsed blood at an alarming rate. Jane was gasping for breath, trying to control the pain and stop herself from crying out. Maura forced herself to ignore the sounds and concentrate on the practicalities: ABC, the fundamentals of first aid. She took a deep breath and clamped her palm over the smaller wound in Jane's upper abdomen. Jane gave a quiet moan of protest in response to the added discomfort but made no attempt to push away, instead craning her neck upwards to see what Maura was doing and then sagging back against the concrete.
"Maura." She licked her dry lips, frustrated at the weakness contained in that one word. "I'm sorry."
Maura tried to smile but it fell well short of her eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble. "You're going to be fine, Jane. Just try and keep still."
"No," Jane shook her head, her hand gesturing vaguely. "Sorry about your dress."
Maura glanced down at the front of her dress where it was already liberally splattered with Frankie's blood, and then at the fresh stains soaking into the fabric gathered at her knees. Her face crumpled and she closed her eyes, tears running down her nose to drip into Jane's hair.
"I was never really sure I liked the colors anyway." Her voice cracked and broke as the wail of sirens rounded the corner.
"Mmm, you look pretty in blue."
"I do?" Maura watched Jane nod in confirmation. Her lips were quirked upwards into a faint grin, but her face was ashen and damp with sweat, her breathing rapid and shallow, and Maura could still feel her blood oozing thickly through Frost's shirt.
"Okay then. When you get fixed up," Maura forced levity into her words even as she pushed down as hard as she dared, her arms aching with the effort, "you can buy me something in blue."
"I promise." Jane brought her hand up to cover Maura's, her blood sticking their fingers together. She shook her head and closed her eyes as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Jesus, ma's never gonna let me hear the fuckin' end of this."
Maura gave a strangled laugh that immediately turned into sobs. She felt Jane's fingers curl around her own. The slamming of doors made her look up sharply: paramedics, laden with kit, were running towards them. She swayed slightly as a rush of relief made her light-headed.
"It's okay ma'am, you can let go now." A young EMT with kind eyes lifted Frost's shirt away. She didn't say a word when Maura kept hold of Jane's hand, but just nodded to confirm that Maura wasn't in their way and started to sort through the equipment she would need.
"No radial palp," she muttered to the paramedic. Her fingers pressed firmly against Jane's wrist and then moved to her inner elbow. "Got a brachial, though."
The paramedic was connecting an oxygen mask to a portable cylinder, his brow creased with concern as he considered the amount of blood his patient had already lost. "Sats are only 91%. Get an Asherman on that entrance wound. Pressure dressing on her back. IV access, fluids, load and go," he said, reaching for his stethoscope.
Jane's eyes widened as she tried and failed to follow the conversation. "Maur… In English?"
"Sorry, Detective." The paramedic hesitated, one half of his steth already in his ear. "We need to stop you bleeding and bring your blood pressure back up with an IV." His hand rested on Jane's right side, assessing the rise and fall of her chest. He nodded as if confirming his own suspicions. "I think the bullet had collapsed your lung. We're gonna use a special dressing to correct that, and then we'll get you to the hospital real quick. That sound okay?"
Jane's gaze flitted to Maura's as if to check that really was okay. It was only when Maura squeezed her hand that she nodded.
"Good." The paramedic placed the diaphragm of his steth against Jane's chest. "Take a deep breath for me."
Jane knew that wasn't going to happen but she tried anyway, grimacing as the pressure in her chest immediately restricted her effort.
"Okay, that's fine." The paramedic's tone implied that that certainly wasn't fine, but he had a pretty good poker face as he looped the oxygen mask over her head and secured it into place. "This'll help, and I'll get you something for the pain as soon as we've gotten some fluids into you."
Looking up at Maura, Jane tried to ignore the suffocating sensation of the mask and the hands that were hurriedly attempting to dress her injuries. Maura's poker face was, somewhat predictably, less convincing, but she managed a weak smile and Jane knew exactly how much that had just cost the woman who fainted at the thought of telling a lie.
"Sharp stick here." The pain of the needle sliding smoothly into her wrist distracted Jane from the guilt that was threatening to undo her. The paramedic muttered something inaudible but unmistakably relieved as he secured it into place and connected it up to the IV. "Run it wide open, Amy."
"Yeah, I got it."
"I can take that." Maura reached out for the bag of fluid, but another hand took it instead and she felt Korsak settle beside her. Without needing to be told, he squeezed the bag to speed up the rate of the infusion. She smiled gratefully and dropped her hand back to where it had been, stroking slowly across Jane's forehead.
"Frankie beat you to the hospital, Rizzoli."
Jane's eyes opened a crack. "He did?" It was only a mumble beneath the mask but it was loud enough for them to hear. "Yeah, they were heading straight into surgery with him."
"No-one…" she pulled in a breath, fogging up the mask, "you didn't…"
"Tell him about your little stunt out here?" He shook his head, not quite sure whether he wanted to wrap his arms around her or throttle her. "No, we told him you were fine, because you will be." He shrugged. "So it was only half a lie."
She let out a laugh but it turned into a cough and her eyes filled with tears.
"Hey, can't you give her anything for that?"
The paramedic was setting up the gurney but he shook his head at Korsak's gruff question. "Not yet. Once her pressure's up a little I can give her some morphine, but right now there's a risk of her crashing."
"Shit." Korsak looked like he wished he'd never asked. He squeezed the IV bag harder and winced inwardly at Maura's stricken expression.
"Can we have some hands here?" the EMT asked the largely uniformed crowd. It seemed as if half the Boston police force stepped forward, and the few that were closest carried Jane carefully across to the waiting gurney, following the instructions of the medics.
Left on her own, Maura stood up slowly, her legs leaden and cramping. She leaned without protest on the arm that Frost offered her and stared at the deep brown stain cascading down the sidewalk they had just moved away from.
"Are you okay, Doctor Isles? You're not hurt?"
"No, I'm not hurt," she said. She was shaking, the adrenaline rush leaving her in an instant as the gurney was secured into the back of the ambulance. One door closed and she was wondering whether she would have to hitch a ride in a squad car when the EMT stepped down and gestured in her direction.
"Are you Maura?"
"Yes." She blinked, straightening up quickly. "Yes."
"She's been asking for you." The EMT held a hand out to help her into the back of the ambulance. "Are you okay without your shoes?"
Maura felt the rough floor beneath her toes and for the first time realized that she was barefoot. She had no idea when she had kicked her heels off or how she had gotten the graze that stood out as an angry red line on her ankle.
"I'm fine." She moved to the seat that the EMT indicated and leaned forward to take Jane's hand in hers. "I don't need them."
The EMT nodded and shut the door, blocking out the daylight to leave only the stark, artificial light of the ambulance interior. Jane hadn't reacted to any of the activity going on around her. She lay propped onto her side, her eyes closed, and seemed relatively comfortable. Maura watched her heart rhythm dance quickly across the EKG screen and allowed herself to relax slightly.
"How is she?" Maura directed her question to the paramedic who was rechecking the dressings for any sign that the bleeding was worsening. When he had finished he peeled his bloodied gloves off and wiped his hands dry before pulling on a fresh pair.
"The fluids brought her pressure up a little. Enough for me to give her a small dose of morphine. It's knocked her out, which was kinda the idea." The ambulance pulled away and began to gain speed. Multiple sirens sounded as the police ensured that its route was clear. "She really shoot the bad guy through herself?" The paramedic tucked another blanket around his patient, his expression bordering on incredulous.
Maura sighed. "Yes, she really did."
"No shit." He laughed in disbelief. "Bet he never saw that coming."
Maura stroked the limp fingers that rested in her bloodied palm. "No," she said softly. "It's very unlikely that he would have." She had known. As soon as she had seen Jane wrestling the gun into position she had known exactly what Jane had planned to do. In those terrible seconds she had watched Jane fall and wondered whether the shot had killed her. It had been desperately stupid and reckless and utterly selfless and they were going to have a serious discussion about Jane never doing it again just as soon as she was awake and at least semi-coherent.
"We're only about seven minutes out." The paramedic was standing up, balanced precariously with his knees hugging the gurney as he swapped out the IV fluids and set a fresh bag running. "They'll be waiting for her."
"Thank you." Maura leaned her head back, exhausted. High-flow oxygen hissed, the sirens howled and the EMT swore loudly at a driver who wasn't quick enough in getting out of her way. Maura blocked it all out, listening only to the sound of her best friend's rattling breaths as the clock on the wall steadily counted seven minutes down, one by one.
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End part one
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