After a big blow up with her partner about something so minor, well what should have been so minor, Detective Jane Rizzoli sat at her computer, trying to find where Charles Hoyt could be hiding his latest victim, Catherine Cordell. Finally a result popped up on her screen.

She looked up at a still fuming Detective Vince Korsak and decided it was best she went alone, instead of starting another fight with him. Jane was almost certain that Hoyt would not be there anyways.

Still angry with Jane, Vince watched Jane as she silently got up, grabbing her badge and gun, before walking out of the bullpen. He just assumed that she was heading out into the hot Boston afternoon to go get something eat or to talk to Maura, down in the morgue. He sighed and looked back down at his paperwork, going back to what he was doing.

By the time Jane reached her car, just up the street from the precinct, she was already beginning to sweat. The sun's rays beaming down from the sky, frying the sidewalk, she could see the heat radiating off of the cement walking path, even off the road. Days like this really made her hate Boston Summers.

As soon as she climbed into her small white four door sedan, since Vince had the key to their Detective car, she immediately turned on the engine and turned on the air conditioner. Once the car had cooled down considerably, Jane programmed the address of Hoyt's rental property into her GPS and pulled away from the curb. With all the Boston traffic, she expected to arrive at the place in about half an hour.

As expected, Rizzoli arrived at the small house in the middle of nowhere in just under forty minutes. She parked out the front, turned off the engine and got out, making sure that she had her gun. She took the gun out of the holster and got it ready in the case she needed it in an instant.

Promptly, Jane went into Cop Mode and headed up to the front door. She knocked and waited but when there was no answer, she kicked the door in and began a sweep of the place. Catching sight of a door in the kitchen, which she assumed led to the basement, she opened it. The basement smelt of dust and mould and despite the small light, it was still pretty dark. The light only provided enough to see, but not much else. Her gun up and aimed as she stepped to descend down the wooden stairs. She saw Catherine tied up on a mattress in the cluttered, damp, cold, gloomy room, with her mouth duct taped, so that she couldn't talk. "Catherine?"

The blonde woman tried her best to nod and warn Jane but it was too late. Hoyt appeared from behind Rizzoli with a two by four plank of wood and hit Jane over the back of the skull with it, knocking her to the cement floor of the basement.

Hoyt manoeuvred Jane to where it wanted her on the floor, and on to her back. "Jane? It's okay, baby, it's okay. Wake up, baby," he murmured softly to her, running the flat, smooth side of a scalpel along her nose and cheeks.

Jane woke up and was startled to find herself being pinned down by Hoyt, a scalpel in his hand, right in front of her eyes. She gulped; this was not going to end well. Oh, God. He's actually going to kill me. I'm still only a Rookie Detective. She thought to herself, keeping strong eye contact with Hoyt, in attempt not to show her fear. She knew that he would get pleasure in that and she didn't want to give that to him.

"Why did you have to come here, Jane? You ruined everything. Now you're going to have to stay," he said and drove the scalpel through her left hand, pinning that hand to the floor.

Jane screamed out in extreme pain.

"Stop!"

"You need to learn your lesson, Detective Rizzoli!" he shouted into her face, reaching beside him to grab the other scalpel he had brought down into the basement with him. He then stabbed it through her right hand, successfully pinning that hand to the floor as well, smiling when Jane cried out again. "Have you learnt your lesson yet, Jane? You don't fuck with me, okay?"

Jane was in too much pain to know what he was saying. She whimpered, breathing heavily. She couldn't talk, she was in shock. Rizzoli just continued to think it was the end. Her life was going to end so soon. Her mother was going to kill her, for putting her through all the pain she would feel by losing her only daughter. At least I'd already be dead, won't have to worry about Ma killing me. She thought, still whimpering. Despite the pain, she was surprise she could even think about that.

Suddenly the other side basement door opened up, bringing in the gleam and heat from the sun, startling both Jane and Catherine. Hoyt was too busy taunting Jane to notice though.

Rizzoli was surprised to see her partner appear in the light. How did he find me?

"Hoyt!" Vince called and Hoyt turned to see who called him, only to be shot twice by Korsak. In the chest and the shoulder. Knocking him out cold. "Rizzoli!" he called and ran down toward his young female partner. He felt so guilty and he covered her in his coat, listening to her painful whimpers. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm not going to move you. It's okay," he tried to comfort her as he waited for back-up and ambulance to arrive. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. Vince continually repeated in his head. He had made it too hard for Jane to ask him and look what had happened to her. She was still a rookie with her whole entire Detective and upwards career ahead of her. Seeing the pooling blood from the scalpels shoved through the centre of her hands, brought tears to Korsak's eyes. Would Jane be able to continue her career as a Detective? Would she ever get another promotion?

"It's hurts! It's hurts!" Jane whimpered, breathing heavily. Shaking. Crying.

"I know, Jane. I know." Korsak whispered, trying to comfort her. He looked at the scalpels skewered into her hands and had to look away. He felt tears come to his eyes again, but knew it was not the right time for that. He quickly asked the woman, whom he recognized as Catherine from her pictures, if she was all right. After she nodded in affirmation, he turned back to Jane who was beginning to tremble. She must be going into shock! Korsak thought. He tightened his coat around her, making sure she was well wrapped even though it was hot outside. Her eyes closed and Korsak panicked. "Jane, wake up! Stay awake."

Her lip trembled as she started to speak. "Out." She whispered.

"We're getting out, Jane. The ambulance will be here soon and we'll leave." Korsak said as he glanced at Hoyt, making sure that the bastard was still out cold. He crawled over to Hoyt and handcuffed his hands around a pole, making sure he wasn't going anywhere.

"Out." Jane repeated when Korsak returned to her side. He gently placed his hand on her foot, not wanting to do anything roughly for fear that the movement would travel to her hands.

"Soon, kid. We'll get out soon."

Jane shook her head emphatically, whimpering as the movement hurt her disabled hands. "Get them out. Take them out." Her voice was getting louder until she was yelling. "Get the fucking scalpels out of my hands!" She cried.

Korsak didn't know what to do. "I can't take them out, Jane. I'm so sorry, but I can't do that. The ambulance will be here soon. They'll take care of it." Jane started sobbing and Korsak felt his heart break. He was an older man who had been through three divorces and this was the saddest heart break he knew he had ever been through. He tried consoling her but she kept kicking him away, so he stopped. The kicks were hurting her more than they were hurting him. He glanced at Catherine and saw that her mouth was still taped and that she was attached to the mattress. He walked over and undid all the tape. "Can you help me and wait outside? When you see the ambulance can rush them over here?" Catherine nodded and ran outside, wanting to help the detective who had sacrificed her life for her in any way possible.

Korsak made his way back over to Jane, whose sobs had decreased to whimpers and cries again. Korsak felt helpless. It wasn't in a cop's training to know what to do when your partner is suffering.

He felt relief wash over him when he heard sirens from an ambulance. The EMTs rushed into the basement with a stretcher. They stopped when they saw the scenario. Korsak heard some mumbled profanity and medical jargon he couldn't understand better than he could spell.

"Is she responsive?" One of them asked Korsak, who nodded.

"Are you allergic to any pain medication?" The other medic asked her. She slowly shook her head and instantly she was given anaesthesia.

After they arrived at the hospital, they immediately rushed Jane into a trauma room. The past events ran through his head: Jane losing consciousness, cutting pieces of the floor where her hands were attached in order to take it with them, the hectic ambulance ride over. Korsak sat in the waiting room, waiting for new.

Korsak rubbed his face in his hands. He knew he had to call Jane's family at some point. And Maura, too. Korsak wasn't sure what the exact nature of their relationship was, but he knew Jane would be glad she was there, no matter how much she hated her loved ones to see her "weak". Sighing once more, he raised his phone and dialed Angela. Briefly before she came on the line, he wondered if it would be worse to tell Angela or Maura.

"You should have told me." Were the first words out of his mouth. He instantly wished he could take them back, for that was not how he wanted to start their conversation.

"I know." Jane told him, not making eye contact. She hadn't looked anywhere else but her hands after she woke up and felt the heavy white bandages surrounding them. "I know." She repeated softly.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going? You know I would have gone with you." Korsak stated. Jane just nodded. She couldn't look at Korsak after what they just went through. She didn't know when she would be able to look at him and not see herself weak, crying, and shaking on a dingy basement floor while her hands had scalpels in them. Her hands were damaged now. She was damaged. And as she heard the loud voices of her family in the hallway and the softer but pained voice of Maura with them, she willed the tears in her eyes away. She may have been damaged, but no one else was going to see her like that ever again.