A/N: For everything leading into this story, check out my other story "To Love a Girl." Just reading the epilogue might already answer some of your questions. I hope you grow to love this like the other story, and grow with Jane and Maura the same way I do when I write them.
Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter of TLAG. Monica, I'm glad my story was worth staying up for (till 4.30, are you insane), katie1370, thanks for your kind words! And Guest ... I'm back.
Happy reading.
A cold October wind makes the hairs on Jane's arms stand up. She zips her coat all the way up to her neck and buries her hands in her pockets, the tips of her fingers already numb.
"What the hell," she complains, kicking a small stone to the edge of the sidewalk. "October isn't supposed to be this cold."
Frost chuckles. He lifts the police tape so they can walk towards the crime scene, to which they got called in half an hour ago. "Wait until December comes around."
The brunette huffs, not excited. She wants to respond, but an officer walks past them, face white as a sheet. Jane frowns and stops him, because she knows him from the academy.
"You okay, Bren?" she asks.
He nods. "Yeah. Just be prepared. It's not exactly how you'd want to start off your day."
"Why?" Frost asks, already feeling sick. Although he still throws up regularly at the sight of a body, he's getting better at keeping it under control.
The officer shakes his head, as if he's trying to forget what he has just seen.
"It's a kid."
..
..
Two hours later, Jane finds herself sitting on one of Maura's empty morgue tables, a cup of coffee in her hands to try and get some feeling back in her fingers. A white sheet covers a body that's way too small, and she wonders very briefly why she chose to do this job. It's cases like these that always make all of them question what's wrong with the world.
"I'm going to start now, Jane, okay?"
Her wife's voice pulls her from her thoughts. She immediately feels annoyed at the blonde's tone, which is too caring and too worried for the brunette's liking.
"Don't do that, Maura," she warns.
"What?" the blonde asks innocently, although she knows exactly what the brunette means. She's just worried about her detective, who's already too wrapped up in this case. And they're only a few hours in.
"You know what. Just go on with it," Jane replies, rolling her shoulders.
Maura turns away from her wife, towards the small body. She takes a breath to steady herself before pressing the button on her voice recorder and starting the Y-incision. Jane is silent, letting the blonde do her job.
They have been together for nearly ten years, if you don't count the ten months they spend apart, and Jane can tell by the crease in her wife's eyebrow that she's having trouble with this case as well. Although Maura is usually objective, Jane has rubbed off on her, and she feels the brunette's anger and indignation running through her own veins. She takes another breath and starts talking.
"The victim is a young boy, approximately six years old, who was found in an alley on the Fenway side of Boylston street. I see a single gunshot wound to the chest, based on the impact and internal damage I would say the gunshot instantly killed him. There don't appear to be any other gunshot wounds, although there is sufficient evidence of physical trauma."
Out the corner of her eye, she sees Jane clench her fists.
"I see at least two broken ribs and multiple hematoma's. Confirmation on the broken ribs will follow shortly."
She switches the recorder off and continues working in silence. The brunette does not interrupt her, although Maura sees her look away when she takes out the boy's heart. She knows Jane well enough to not comment on it again, and she focuses on her task again.
Then Jane's phone suddenly rings, breaking the silence of the nearly empty morgue. The brunette tenses up at the sound. "No, I'm fine," she immediately says, noticing Maura's worried look. "I just wasn't expecting it." She grabs her phone from her belt, seeing the caller's ID. She groans.
"Yes, Ma."
Maura smiles before turning back around and jotting down some things on her notepad. Angela always manages to annoy her daughter, even before she's said anything. She cannot make out what Jane's mother is saying, but Angela's voice is loud enough to know that she's yelling. Maura waits for Jane to answer, curious what this conversation is about.
"No, Ma, I can't!" the brunette automatically raises her voice as well. Maura lifts her hand to let her wife know that she's yelling way too loud, but the brunette waves it away. "I have work to do. I can't just drop everything and walk out to help Tommy with some shitty job outside of the city!"
The blonde's smile falters slightly. Jane's youngest brother has been bouncing from job to job for years, with colleagues neither Jane nor Maura trust. Today, he's supposed to be at a moving job just outside of Boston. She catches a few of the words Angela's yelling at her wife, and she sighs.
"... never there ..., having a hard time ...your little brother!"
"My little brother has to sort out his own stuff. He's 23, I can't babysit him forever!"
Angela answers something Maura can't understand from where she's standing. She supposes it's better she doesn't.
Jane's mother now lives in Maura's guest house. She sold the house they lived in when Frank died five years ago, because she simply couldn't afford it anymore. She lived in a small apartment at first, because Maura didn't have any contact with the Rizzoli's after she and Jane broke up. When the brunette and her got back together, she opted that Angela could live in her guest house. After some protests from Jane, the brunette eventually agreed, and now Angela comes over for coffee once in a while.
Jane's mother works in the café at Headquarters, serving breakfast, lunch and dinner for the police officers and detectives. She regularly drops by on Jane's floor without asking, and although the brunette pretends she doesn't like it, Maura knows that she secretly loves her nosy mother for always bringing her food.
Frankie now shares an apartment with a friend from the Academy, although Jane doesn't even know what that friend looks like. Frankie's in the drug unit, and they've had a very successful year with more solved cases than any other team in the country. She's proud of him, although she's too proud herself to say it to him. But he knows.
After a lot more yelling on the other side of the line, Jane gets the chance to answer.
"No Ma, I'm not going. Call me back later, when I've finished working. Bye."
The brunette disconnects and puts her phone back on her belt. "Sorry," she mumbles, jumping off the table she'd been sitting on. "I'll leave you to it."
"Jane."
The brunette looks back at her wife, hand already on the door knob. "Mmhm?"
"Nothing. I'll text you the results from ballistics as soon as I have them, okay?"
"Sure, Maur. Love you."
"I love you too."
..
..
When Jane enters the bullpen, their boss is just starting his speech. Everyone is gathered around him, and she looks for Frost. He puts his hand up, because he sees she's looking, and she smiles gratefully before silently making his way over to him.
"I want every officer, detective and sergeant in the building working this case," Cavanaugh starts. "We have a child laying on a morgue table, somewhere he shouldn't have ended up in the first place. This case needs to be solved. Drop everything else, unless it's absolutely necessary to continue working on it. If you're not sure, my door is always open. Now get to work, there's a lot to do."
When he finished, the crowd immediately starts mumbling. The first officers walk out of the bullpen, going to their own floors and workplaces. Jane turns around as well, making her way through the crowd to get to her own desk.
"Rizzoli?"
She turns around and there's her boss, Cavanaugh, looking at her.
"Sir."
"I want a first report on my desk in two hours. We have press waiting outside for a statement. If we don't get this bastard before he kills another boy, they will destroy us."
"Yes, Sir. Two hours. Got it."
Frost is already sitting behind his computer when Jane lets herself fall onto her office chair. She runs her hand through her hair, which she forgot to comb this morning, so it's all tangled.
"Where's Korsak?" Jane asks, noticing his empty desk. Their sergeant is usually here.
"He went downstairs to get lunch," Frost answers. "Said he'd be back in twenty. Okay, so what have we got?"
Jane sighs before pushing herself and her chair over to his desk. He moves a bit to the right so she has space to sit.
"An unidentified boy, Maura said he's approximately six years old. He was left in an alley on Boylston. We'll probably know his name soon enough, Maura's running tests now," Jane says. "He was killed somewhere else, because as you know there wasn't much blood on the scene," she continues. "Who does this?"
Frost shakes his head. "We'll know soon enough. Hopefully"
Jane rolls back to her own desk, starting her computer. "Lets find murders with the same MO. Time span of, what, five years?"
"Sure. Otherwise just narrow or widen the search," her partner says from behind his screen, already focused on his task.
They work in silence for a while, until Jane's phone pings. She picks it up, reading the text message.
"Maura's coming," she says, putting her phone back down on her desk. "She's got a name."
And indeed, the blonde doctor enters the bullpen not even three minutes after sending her text.
"His name is Charlie Hearts," she says, and Frost starts typing immediately. "And I got the results from ballistics, I told them it was urgent. It's a 9mm."
"Great," Jane groans. "The most common caliber in the US."
"I'm doing what I can, Jane," Maura says, a little annoyed at her wife's tone.
The brunette looks at her, a silent apology in her eyes. "Sorry, Maur. I just hate it when it's a kid." The blonde doesn't get a chance to respond, because Frost lifts his hand.
"Got him. Charlie Hearts, six years old, lives in Fenway. His parents reported him missing on Monday evening, when he hadn't returned home from school."
"Why would you let a six year old walk home from school all by himself?" Jane wonders out loud.
Frost's fingers fly over his computer keys, and it doesn't take long for him to have the answer. "His house is two blocks from his high school. Barely a three-minute walk."
Jane's eyes flicker to Maura's before settling on Frost again. "Then we have someone who either knows this kid very well, or has been stalking him for long enough to know the time he leaves school and the route he takes," she concludes. "Sorry, when did he go missing?"
"Monday," Frost repeats.
"Today's .. Thursday. He was killed and dumped this night, Maura?" the brunette asks, looking at her wife.
The blonde nods, confirming.
"So whoever took him had two full days with him before he killed him," Jane states. "Monday evening to Wednesday evening."
"Jane?" Maura interrupts, and the brunette can tell by the look on her wife's face that what she's about to say isn't good news. "That's all I found. No signs of rape or any other form of abuse. It looks like the murderer didn't intend on hurting him."
"Yeah, besides the bullet that was put in his chest," Jane mumbles. "Well," she breathes, glancing at Frost. "At least I've got enough for a first report. Thanks, Maur."
Maura smiles shortly, already turning around to go back to the elevator. "I'll bring lunch up for you."
"Don't bother," the brunette says. "After I've finished this, we have to go tell Charlie's parents."
The blonde sighs. "Good luck, both of you. Come downstairs when you get back, Jane?"
Jane nods. Frost buries his head in his hands.
This is definitely the worst part of their job.
..
..
When Frost rings the door bell, the brunette sighs deeply.
"Do you want me to talk?" she says, looking at him. She can read the answer in his eyes.
Finally, the door opens, and a long, blonde woman is standing in the doorway. Her eyes are red and her hair is wild, as if she hasn't done anything about it the past few days. If that were the case, Jane wouldn't blame her. "Are you from the police? Have you found Charlie?" she says, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Miss Hearts?" the brunette starts. "Could we come inside for a moment?"
"Oh, yes, of course," she stammers, letting them in. "Roy! The police are here!"
She leads them into the living room, quickly joined by a man who must be Charlie's father. He looks just as miserable as his wife.
"Mr and Mrs Hearts," Frost takes the lead, surprising the brunette, although it's not unwelcome. "This morning we were called to a scene on Boylston Street," he starts, carefully avoiding the word 'crime'. "We found a young boy-"
"No!" The woman puts her hand over her mouth. "No no no, please. Not my son. Roy?" She looks up at her husband, as if there's anything he can do to turn back time.
"After a few tests, we are very sorry to say that boy is indeed your son, Charlie," Frost finished, sighing when the woman in front of them turns into her husband, the sounds of crying muffled by his sweater. Mr Hearts has tears rolling down his cheeks as well, and he shakes his head.
"Please tell me that's not true," he tries, voice hoarse. "Please. My family."
Jane swallows. Things like this still get to her. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr and Mrs Hearts," she says. "We will be doing everything we possibly can to find whoever's behind this. We need to interview the both of you separately. That's just a procedure, no one's in trouble," she assures. "But that can wait until tomorrow morning, we understand the situation you're in. Could you try to be at the police station around nine AM?"
"Yes ... yes, of course," Roy answers, absentmindedly rubbing his wife's back. She's still shaking with grief, her face buried in his sweater.
"Is there anyone you can call to keep you company while the investigation is ongoing?" Frost asks, motioning at Roy and his wife. "Um, my friend and his partner? They live a couple of miles away," he suggests, more to his wife than to them. She seems to nod, and that's enough confirmation for him.
They shake hands and Roy lets them out, while his wife gets up to get tissues.
"Shit man, it's even worse when it's a kid," Frost says when they're back on the street.
Jane looks at her phone, reading a text from Maura.
"Maura's gone home early. She finished the autopsy and is writing the report at home," Jane says, unlocking her car.
Frost walks over to the other side. "Drop me off at the station and go home early as well, Jane," he says, although the brunette is already coming up with a reason not to. "No," he continues. "There's nothing else you can do now. You handed Cavanaugh the report, the interviews aren't until tomorrow morning. It's four fifteen, go home early and have a break before we start figuring this out tomorrow."
Jane cannot come up with anything to say.
"Fine," she huffs, although the little smile tells Frost that she appreciates him.
They drive back to Headquarters in silence, both too wrapped up in their own thoughts. Jane stops the car in front of the entrance, letting Frost out.
"HQ at nine tomorrow?" Frost says, getting out of the car.
She nods, confirming.
"I'll tell Korsak," he says, pulling his coat tighter around himself.
"Thanks, Frost. I mean, you know?" she tries.
"I know, Jane. No problem."
..
..
Maura's working on her report when the door opens, and the sound of Jane's boots on the hardwood floor makes her smile and look up. Her wife is home.
She watches the detective leave bit by bit when Jane puts her service weapon and her belt in the locker in the hallway, and she turns into the woman Maura knows better than anyone else.
"Hey," Jane says, pulling her hair into a ponytail before wrapping a hair tie around the brown curls.
"Hi," Maura replies, getting up from her chair to wrap her wife into a hug. The brunette leans into her, already tired, although the case has hardly begun.
"Okay?" the blonde asks softly, putting her head on Jane's chest.
"Mhm," Jane mumbles, and it could either be confirmation or denial. Maura wants to ask, but refrains from doing so. It's not the right moment.
"I love you," she offers. For that moment, this the right thing to say. She feels Jane smile before she's pulled into a kiss. A soft, gentle kiss that leaves her a little hazy.
Jane holds on to her for a little while, simply looking into hazel eyes.
"How long until you've finished the report?" she asks, teeth worrying her bottom lip.
Maura smiles. "Why?"
"I was hoping we could order pizza and watch a movie?" Jane asks, sounding hopeful. "It might take a while until we get the chance to do that again after tonight."
Maura pulls back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at her wife's excitement.
"Fifteen minutes. You think you can wait that long?" she teases gently, letting go of the brunette so she can go back and finish her report.
Jane pretends to huff, the heaviness of the new case disappearing for a moment. She loves this about Maura. The blonde seems to know exactly what she needs, and she's eternally grateful for it. Jane walks towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to see if there's anything in there.
"Fine," she replies. "But only if I get to pick the movie."
Maura smiles from behind her laptop.
"You got it."
We might as well jump right in. Thanks for coming back.