Author's Note: This is the first thing I've ever posted on here, and it's obvious that I'm no writer, but putting a strange R&I-themed dream to words seemed like a good idea at four this morning. I'm sure you all know how that one goes. Unfortunately, all mistakes are my own, so please point them out! Any comments, reviews, criticism and even full-on hate is appreciated, thanks!
Disclaimer: If Rizzoli & Isles belonged to me in any way, I certainly wouldn't be spending my time writing about them, would you?
"Seriously?" she groaned in disbelief as chocolate eyes darted wildly over the scene laid out before them, her brain struggling to make sense of what she saw. She afforded herself the luxury of letting her heavy eyelids slide shut, blissfully blocking everything out, if only for a few moments. But, like all good things, it was over before it had barely begun. Time to get back to reality.
"Like, seriously seriously?" she croaked again, her disbelief gallantly standing aside to let anger, confusion and, more importantly, paintake the lead on this one.
"Oh, Jane, I..." drifted towards the detective's ears from somewhere across the expansive kitchen, barely above a whisper, but the dark-haired woman couldn't focus on its source through the fog clouding her vision. Suddenly, all she saw was white. All she felt was white; a blistering, white heat jutting out of... of somewhere. Right side. No, left. Shoulder, maybe? Her entire body swam with pain, and she wasn't going to risk drowning in it by worrying about the specifics. She inhaled sharply through her nose, hissing out that same breath immediately. God, even breathing hurt. Using the very unpleasant sensations coursing through her body as an anchor to help keep her grounded, Boston P.D.'s finest clenched her jaw and straightened up against the door frame that, so far, had been doing a stand up job of, well, standing her up. With determination, Jane Rizzoli roused her eyes from their new home in the back of her skull and forced herself to meet the vacant gaze of the smaller woman opposite her.
Doctor Maura Isles, Jane's partner in anti-crime, stood in the corresponding doorway, frozen in horror, one hand clutching a sodden bath towel to her shaking body. It wasn't an awful sight, anyone would admit. The other hand, however, gripped a far less enticing appendage. Jane's gun.
"Shit," the detective muttered to herself, slowly letting the realisation sink in; Maura had shot her. Maura had actually shot her.
The next few seconds felt like hours, and Jane would later swear that, even above the roar of blood rushing through her ears, she heard the soft thud of each water droplet as it slid from Maura's wet hair and splashed into the small puddle at her pedicured feet. A crimson pool of equal size gathered at Jane's own bare feet; hot, sticky blood trickling down her chest and dripping from the hem of her tank top in tandem with her erratic heartbeat. The empty bullet casing still spun across the floor at a leisurely pace, finally settling next to Bass' shell, who promptly retreated inside. He wasn't in the mood for this shit.
No more than twenty seconds could have possibly passed, but that was still enough time for Jane to wonder why Maura wasn't rushing to her side. Despite her less-than-living clientèle, Maura was a doctor, she must know that Jane needed help. Her stomach knotted as she entertained the racing thought of Maura not even caring. Had she meant to hit her? Defeated, Jane let her legs buckle underneath her and slumped to the floor, unable to determine which stabbing pain hurt her the most.
"Maur, what the fuck?" Jane managed, voice cracking under the strain of merely speaking.
"Language," Maura chided absent-mindedly, still staring vacantly at the spot where Jane had previously been propped up.
"Seriously?" Jane managed one last time, unable to form a more coherent thought. Maura had just released a bullet somewhere in Jane's body and she was getting on her for swearing? Was she fucking kidding? But this was clearly no joke. "Maura," Jane tried again, with a little more force behind it. Nothing. "Maura!"
"Hmm?" Maura hummed, before breathing in sharply, taking an unsteady step backwards as she blinked at the crumpled heap on the floor, frowning. "What?" she breathed. "Jane, your shirt. I, uh. I... Oh, God," the doctor choked, heart wrenching as the heavy weight of Jane's gun in her hand brought the memories of the last five minutes crashing back down on her like a tidal wave.
"Maura, what happened?" Jane asked meekly, feeling faint as her palm met the slick blood plastering her shirt. She needed to apply pressure to the wound, that much she knew, but as her fingers pressed into the soaked material to seek out her latest bullet hole, she realised she could barely feel a thing.
"Jane, you were gone, I didn't... I got out and I thought," Maura blurted. "Your belongings," she tried again between sobs, "your ugly shoes... were still here. I tried to c-call but your cell was right here, a-and... your gun..." The last two words a whisper. "Jane Rizzoli doesn't go anywhere without her gun," she finished, punctuating her hurried explanation with a hiccup.
"I only took Jo out to shi-" Jane started, but, much to Maura's approval, cut her sentence short as she glanced around in search of the little mutt, who was nowhere to be seen. If she'd had the strength, she might have shrugged. "I'm sorry," she offered.
Wait, why was she the one apologising?
"Sorry?" Maura asked, incredulous. "You're sorry?" she repeated, voice raising in anger.
"Whoa," the wounded detective flinched as Maura tossed her hands in the air, almost losing the towel. Jane was all for talking with her hands, but the gun clasped tight in Maura's fist was making the notion seem a little less appealing.
"Jane, I thought they had taken you!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "I thought they'd taken you away from me and I... I've never been so terrified of anything in my entire life," the pathologist admitted weakly, her own knees giving way as she, too, dropped to the hardwood floor with a whimper, gun clattering to the ground beside her. Jane's expression immediately softened as she fought against the tears brimming in her dark eyes. "I saw someone moving outside the window, and I just..." Maura trailed off, unable to meet Jane's bleary gaze. "I'm sorry."
Despite everything, Jane smiled. She couldn't afford a large one, but it was definitely something she could work with. "Maura, look at me. Hey, look at me," she coaxed, desperately trying to get through to her colleague. "It's okay. I'mokay," she lied.
"Really?" the doctor looked up, golden eyes shining with hope and unshed tears.
"Yeah, it's not as bad as it looks, I've had worse rough-housing with Frankie" she nodded, which was partially true; she was right in assuming she'd only been hit in the shoulder, and it was what they called a through-and-through, though Jane was certain Maura would have a fancier term for the havoc she'd wrought on Jane's flesh. "You were just trying to protect me, Maura," the darker woman reminded her. "You fuckin' suck at it," she laughed, immediately regretting the painful outburst, but carried on gamely; the last thing Maura needed right now was a guilt trip, "but I know you didn't mean to hurt me." At that, Maura released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "That being said, Doctor Isles," Jane added, "I just might have to arrest you if you don't get over here and help me out with this," she used the remainder of her energy and gestured half-heartedly with her free hand to the sticky mess still slowly seeping through the fingers pressing against the wound.
"Oh. Ohh," Maura gasped, scampering across the floor to where Jane was huddled, almost losing her towel yet again.
"Yeah, oh," Jane mimicked with a smirk. That same smirk, however, was wiped from her lips just as quickly as it had formed when the good doctor really didlose the towel. "Umm," she mumbled awkwardly, averting her eyes as Maura's godly form draped over her. Ever the gentleman, even in the face of death.
"Jane, we're both girls," Maura stated flatly, like she honestly meant nothing beyond the bare bones of the fact. Jane would have made a mental note on how there was nothing girlie about her friend's body if Maura hadn't chosen that moment to press her previously discarded bath towel firmly against Jane's shoulder.
"Son of a bitch!" Jane howled as lightning struck her right behind the eyes, her long body writhing as she kicked her bare heels into the ground. Unabashed, Maura pressed herself flush against Jane as she groaned, tenderly cupping a perfectly-sculpted cheekbone until the taller woman's breathing evened out.
"Too hard?" Maura frowned into the detective's side, her damp hair further ruining Jane's soiled tank top.
"Ya think?" Jane seethed. "You're really not used to working with the living, huh, Doc? You gotta remember that some of us have these things called feelings."
"Hmph," the blonde pouted, thinking she was doing a marvelous job of coping with this unexpected situation. She really did need to take a closer look to assess the damage, though; there truly was a lot of blood staining her beautiful flooring.
Maura carefully untangled herself from Jane's bloodied torso and shifted her weight to her knees, attempting to stand up without further injuring Jane, who winced as she turned away once more, determined not to stare at the only thing that brought her even an ounce of comfort.
"Jane, come on," the doctor told her patient softly, sighing as the detective shook her dark curls. "We need to get you up so I can take a look. I may have just showered, but do you know how much bacteria is already breeding on that wet towel?" she explained, trying to make Jane see reason.
"Ughh," Jane scrunched up her face in distaste and resigned herself to being eased up from the floor, Maura struggling under her near-dead weight, as little as it was. "Where are we going?" Jane whined as she was lead across the kitchen, and groaned as Maura inclined her head towards the well-lit island in the middle of the room. "You want me to get up on that slab?" Jane hissed, trying to look Maura in the eyes and nowhere else.
"Yep," Maura replied with a slight nod.
"Will you at least put on some clothes?" Jane asked, exasperated.
"Nope," Maura replied again, this time with a slight shake of her head.
Jane had a feeling this was going to be a long night.