Title: Trigger
Author: AllOverTheWorld
Author's Note/Summary: I got inspired to write this one shot after watching the last scene of the season finale. If you wish to watch the clip, just as a refresher go to youtube and search *SPOILER* Rizzoli & Isles. Season Finale; The Ending. It is the clip by SLIKPRINSOO. Also the stuff in italics is the actual lines from the episode (as best as I could decipher them anyway). Enjoy.
He pushed open the front door to the precinct and I couldn't help but let out a small, animalistic, pitiful cry of desperation. This man, this cop, had a gun to my head and his arm around my neck, practically in a chokehold. Around me I could hear the question:
"Can you make the shot?"
I pray that the answer is yes because I don't want to die, I'm not ready to die. Maybe when I was being tortured by Charles Hoyt, maybe then I thought I was ready to die but I know now that I'm not. I think the reason that I was ready to die when I was with Hoyt was because some far away part of me knew that I was going to be saved. Some part of me knew that Korsak and Boston PD would find me and I was afraid of what they would think of me. The difference between those times and this one is that there is a very real, very strong possibility that I might not make it out of this alive. I may die, right here on the precinct steps, the very spot where I got my car towed. The very spot that I have walked up every day for the past, god I can hardly remember how long it's been, but those steps are as much a part of me as my gun is, as Korsak and his obsession with furry, lost little animals. As much a part of me as Frost and his inability to see a dead body is. As much a part of me as Frankie and Ma and Dad and, well, Tommy are. But most of all as much a part of me as Maura is.
That woman.
"No, he's got her to close."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
That news is literally the worst thing I think I have ever heard.
"Please Bobby please!" I beg, why am I begging, he is to far gone to let my simple pleas change his mind.
"Take off your keys." He demands, shouting it, even though he is right in my ear.
What?
"Please Bobby!" I plead but I knew that it's useless and even as he is dragging me farther away from the entrance I know there is only one option left. There is only one choice I have, that they all have, because there is no way I'm going to let this guy, Bobby, get away from all of this unscathed.
"Shoot him!" I shout but I know they won't. I know they wont shoot him because I know that no one standing across the street from me wants to have my blood on their hands. Even if I told them to do it, no one wants another cop to die today, well they don't want that cop to be me "Just shoot him!"
"Put your guns down or she's dead." He shouts but that really doesn't make sense because there is a slim to none chance I'm getting out of this alive.
"No! No!" I saw, now trying, really trying, to get them, all of them, to understand that I want them to shoot me.
No, I don't want to die. No, I don't want to leave my family with the grief. No, I don't want die in front the precinct. No, I don't want to die without telling Maura I love her. But honestly, behind all thoughts of leaving other people behind and not telling Maura I love her, plain and simple I just don't want to die at the hands of this guy. I would rather have Korsak or Frost, or even the SWAT sniper shoot me than Bobby, it just isn't right.
"Frankie's bleeding! There's no time." I don't want them to waste time trying to save my life, not when my younger brother is there, dying, bleeding out a slow and painful death. He needs to live, he can't die, not there, not in the autopsy room.
"Your brothers probably already dead."
Big. Fucking. Mistake. Don't ever tell me that my brother is dead you moron. I don't care who you are, or that you have a gun pressed into my temple. I doesn't matter because you, you are not going to tell me my brother is dead.
The next few seconds happen very, very slowly for me. Some surge of energy, some older sister need to protect my younger brother type adrenaline surges through me and I grab Bobby's gun and drag it and his arm down towards my abdomen. As I'm doing this I realize what is going to happen, I'm going to shoot myself. That isn't the first time that thought as ran through my head but never before have I actually acted upon that need and this time, this time I'm really hoping I don't kill myself.
I press the barrel of the gun into my abdomen and strangely I think of Maura. I think of how she could probably tell me, down to the cell, every piece of me that is going to get hit by this bullet and I hope that that list is short.
Even as both Bobby and I are getting dragged to the ground by the force of my actions, some other movement catches my eye and in the brief second that I look away from the gun and my own arm, I see Maura pushing the door open. The look on her face is sheer panic, something that I never thought I would ever see on her face and, if I live, I never hope to see again.
"Jane!" she calls out and in a weird, not so weird way (because I am in love with her), I'm glad that her saying my name will be the last thing I hear. Granted it's not her screaming my name after…after…well more explicit activities but it is my name, rolling off of her lips all the same.
I pull the trigger.
Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Do you want more? None of the above?
Thanks,
AllOverTheWorld
