A/N: Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts.
Can Heaven Wait
The dark was surprisingly comforting as she sat rigidly on the couch, one arm resting on the arm rest, the other holding a crystal tumbler and swirling the rough whiskey around the ice. She inhaled the scent of the Irish whiskey before bringing the tumbler to her mouth and pouring the harsh liquid down her throat. It wasn't at all satisfying. She placed the glass down on the coffee table, using a coaster out of habit.
She had changed so many parts of herself out of love for the woman whose home she now found herself sitting in, but now she felt like it had been wasted effort. Her palms ached; she gently massaged one palm and then the other, the scars a constant reminder of a past she couldn't let go. It hurt to think of her past and it hurt to think of the soft tender hands that would normally massage her scarred palms. It hurt to think of the woman who owned those oh so soft hands.
She was tired. She had been fighting her demons for so long and they had finally caught up with her. She had tainted the one good thing in her life; the light, the place she called home. Her eyes closed as she allowed her arms to slump by her side; she felt lethargic and broken. Images of Hoyt and his sneer flashed across her eyelids before fading into images of Maura and that smile she had reserved just for her. It was so beautiful, Maura was so beautiful.
Jane's eyes shot open and she hauled herself from the couch and stumbled over to the kitchen island groggily. Her hands found her badge and gun and a sad smile graced her lips. She didn't deserve to hold the position of detective, not anymore. She returned to the couch, resting the Glock in her lap while she almost reverently traced the contours of her shield. She remembered Barry and his perfect smile and then she remembered the comfort Maura had offered, holding her so close, after his death.
The hot sting of tears trailed down Jane's Mediterranean features as she hurled her shield across the room, where it landed harmlessly against the wall. Her left hand curled comfortably around the handle of her Glock, which her eyes lowered to stare at intensely. She had killed many people with that weapon, all in the line of duty, all out of necessity, but still those deaths weighed on her soul. As it seemed everything did this night.
Jane was crouched down on her haunches in a dirty alley between two brick buildings, merely yards from the body of a young teenage girl with blood pooling from the gaping gunshot wound to her head. Tears burned the face of the hardened detective and her body was taught with tension. Her hands were hanging limply between her legs, clenched tightly into fists as her mind fought between overwhelming sadness and a vitriolic anger directed inward.
Several feet away from the girl a scrawny weasel of a man lay dead, his chest riddled with bullets. He had signed his own death warrant in front of several officers, including Jane, when he had shot the girl, his hostage. The coward had chosen the easy way out and had made an innocent girl suffer in the process. Detective Rizzoli had been responsible for three of the rounds in his chest.
Her chest heaved under the pressure of her shallow breathing; she couldn't suck in a deep breath if she tried. She was choked up with too much emotion from the morning. She had missed her opportunity to take the creep out before it had come to this, and now the guilt chewed her up. She didn't know how long she had been crouched in that position and she was only vaguely aware of the crime scene technicians that had moved in to do their job of photographing and marking the scene.
While cause of death was obvious and witnessed by several police officers, there would be an internal investigation and as such the scene had to be examined correctly. Because of this the familiar sound of clicking of heels tugged at Jane's consciousness, but it wasn't until she felt the familiar touch of the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts on her shoulder that she was able to pull out of her own swirling thoughts.
Jane tilted her head so that she could get a better view of the woman she once called her best friend. While her body had initially softened under the familiar touch, it stiffened again when it remembered that they were barely on speaking terms. "Doctor Isles," she managed to rasp cordially.
The look of concern and compassion that had graced both the eyes and Slavic features of Doctor Maura Isles disappeared upon hearing the tone of the greeting. Still determined to show some kindness Maura squatted down beside Jane and whispered, "Jane, are you okay?"
For a moment Jane's dark brown eyes softened and she brought her left hand up and onto the hand still resting on her shoulder, absorbing the warmth and comfort it offered. For a brief moment the tension and distance between them dissipated; but almost as soon as she had softened Jane hardened again. "Just dandy." She stood then, feeling the lactic acid release into her muscles after having been in the same position for entirely too long. She grunted and stumbled away from the medical examiner trying to get her legs in working order again.
Maura's hand fell limply to her side as she watched the raven haired Italian detective walk away. She missed her best friend and she was deeply concerned; she had heard what had happened through the BPD grapevine and knew this would be eating Jane up. Reluctantly she turned to the bodies to do her job; she snapped on some blue surgical gloves and began her investigation.
It had been cleared as a righteous shooting, but that didn't make Jane feel any better. An innocent kid was dead, and she had ended the life of the guy who had killed the kid. There was just so much death. So much death and no light to push away the darkness.
Weighed down by all her mistakes and missteps Jane flicked off the safety and bit down on the barrel of the weapon she had only been given back several days prior. Her inner Maura was telling her how unsanitary it was to have the gun in her mouth and she almost cracked a sad smile, but she couldn't. Any thought of Maura twisted her gut and caused her soul to ache relentlessly.
"No, Janie. She wouldn't want this for you and she needs you so much right now." Angela Rizzoli sat down next to her daughter and gently placed her hands on top of the gun, sliding the safety back into place before removing it from her daughter's shaking hand. "I know you're hurting baby, but this isn't the answer."
"She doesn't need me Ma. She hates me." More tears. More heartache. Jane crawled onto her mothers lap and closed her eyes, trying so hard to fight away all the visions that haunted her.
"I'm really sorry about cutting dinner short Chad. I'm just so worried about Jane." Maura walked into her home, flicking lights on as she went, dutifully trailed by the blue eyed, sandy haired, strapping six foot tall lawyer who had been her date for the evening.
"Hey, no problem." Chad said with a smile as he pulled up at the kitchen island. "I understand completely." In reality he didn't really have a clue, but he knew enough to know what was important to the doctor, and since he wanted to be important too he was in no mind to argue.
Maura turned to look at him and managed a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes; she just wasn't in the mood to entertain. "We will have to try again soon."
He nodded the affirmative and brought his hands to rest on her hips as he stepped in closer to the stunning blonde who almost met his height with her four inch heels. "I had a good time," he murmured as he leaned in to seal the night with a kiss.
At the last moment Maura turned her face so that he met her cheek and in that instant her eyesight landed on the couch and the now moving form of the woman she had just been expressing concern for. "Jane?" She managed to choke out, clearly not expecting the woman's presence. Her heart rate increased dangerously as she returned her gaze to her date. She gently pushed away from him and dropped her eyes to the ground, "You should leave now."
Chadwas confused by everything that had just happened; he turned to look where Maura had been looking and furrowed his brow in confusion at the seeming intruder. Glancing back at Maura and finally processing that she had said Jane again he put two and two together and slumped his shoulders in resignation. This night was not going to progress any further. "Are you sure?" He questioned softly, tilting Maura's chin with his hand so that he could search her eyes.
"She asked you to leave, jackass." Jane's deep raspy timbre floated across the room as she stood tall and faced the pair by the kitchen island. She was fairly sure her jealousy was plain to see, but she didn't care. She needed to talk to Maura and she needed uptight lawyer boy gone in the process.
Maura nodded softly and watched as he stepped away and turned on his heels to leave. His stride clearly stuttered in reluctance before falling back into a confident swagger as if he realised this was the last time he would be seeing Maura Isles but damned if he was going to show any distress over it.
Once the front door clicked shut, indicating the two women were alone, Maura turned her attention back to the lanky Italian who had moved around the couch and now stood in plain sight several feet away. She made note of the tear stains and haunted look that adorned Jane's face and in the same instant she felt herself soften towards allowing this discussion, whatever it may be, she locked onto hardened dark eyes. Just like that Maura was on the offensive, no longer willing to entertain the subsequent conversation. "You should leave too Jane, and give me the key before you do."
"No." Jane's voice was hard and she crossed her arms in defiance. It was an uncomfortable feeling within as she fought all her natural urges. A huge part of her just wanted to fall into the comforting arms of her best friend and she knew exactly how to get that; but instead she found herself becoming defensive and spiteful. This was not the way to get the medical examiner to take her into her arms.
Maura let out an exasperated sigh, all too familiar with this version of Jane Rizzoli. Her eyes flitted around the room, noting the whiskey bottle sitting on the kitchen island; clearly the detective had helped herself to some alcohol. She marched over to Jane and pressed her pointer finger into her sternum, "Give me the key and leave, please."
Jane shrugged away and stalked back over to the couch, picked up her Glock and sat back down, staring blankly ahead. She didn't say a word because she knew if she tried it would only come out angry and resentful and she was tired of pushing Maura away; tired of being pushed away.
Maura forced herself to breathe in and count to ten, trying desperately to calm her nerves as the anger she felt building shouldn't be released, at least not on this night. Not after the day's unfortunate happenings. She walked around the front of the couch and froze when she saw the weapon resting in her friend's hand. Instantly her hazel eyes flicked up to dark brown and she shuddered uncontrollably. She didn't like what she saw.
The doctor moving into her line of vision caused Jane to meet the fearful gaze, "Oh relax the safety is on."
"Jane?" Maura had an amazing ability to express so much through tone and inflection that just saying her friend's name could mean so many different things. This time the tone and inflection questioned state of mind and expressed concern.
Ignoring the implied question Jane instead focused on how she felt. "I'm so tired Maura." Tired of running; tired of witnessing first hand the horrors of Boston; tired of Hoyt haunting her and oh so tired of being estranged from the woman she loved.
Maura tilted her head to the side as she studied Jane's face and noted an increase in periorbital puffiness. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"
If she hadn't been so physically and emotionally drained Jane may have laughed at Maura's literal interpretation of her words, but she didn't laugh, she sighed. "What I mean to say is how do you deal with death day after day? 'Cause I'm not dealing. I don't know if I can keep doing this, Maur."
Maura regarded Jane sadly, it was becoming increasingly clear how broken down the woman was and it made it very difficult to maintain her distance and anger. "It is easier for me because very rarely do I see how they end up on my table." She pursed her lips as she bit back her next thought, well and truly certain that the suggestion of therapy would not be taken well.
Instead Maura diverted course altogether, "Give me the gun Jane."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"It's evidence. I put three rounds into the guy this morning Maur." Jane exhaled heavily, the morning's death toll playing heavily on her mind.
"Then why do you still have your weapon?"
"Because I walked off the scene in a daze I guess and nobody stopped me and I've been waiting here for you most of the day." The hurt couldn't be missed; Maura hadn't been home between work and her date and she had waited nonetheless. "I didn't realise you had plans."
Maura felt guilty for having been on a date and that feeling angered her. Jane was the one who had made all the decisions that had affected their friendship; Jane was the one who had coaxed out her confession of love only to run as fast as she could in the other direction. Maura really hated that she cared so much for the woman sitting on her couch holding a gun.
Biting back the rising anger she marched over to the kitchen island where she had placed her bag and proceeded to pull a plastic evidence baggy from within. She marched back over to Jane and held it open, "Put the gun in here, now." The edge to her tone ensured Jane knew she meant business.
"Really? You have an evidence bag on hand?" Jane rolled her eyes, double checked the safety was on and slipped the gun into the bag provided.
"Yes really," Maura sighed heavily and found herself pacing, she was highly agitated. She was once again being sucked into the world of taking care of Jane Rizzoli and she was sick and tired of it. "I can't keep doing this Jane."
"Doing what?" Jane eyed Maura warily, aware of her increased stress levels.
"Fixing you. We're not friends anymore Jane. I can recommend some therapists that may be of better assistance." She fixed Jane with a hard glare, "We are through. I'm done with this. So done."
Maura's words hammered into Jane like a landslide, her heart ached and her gut churned viciously. "Please don't say that," she choked out as she was hit with a fresh influx of hot tears.
Maura ignored Jane and walked back to the kitchen island, picked up her phone and called Korsak, "Sergeant Korsak I have Jane's gun in an evidence bag, I do believe it will be required for ballistic comparisons from this morning's shooting."
Her eyes fell on Jane who had stood from the couch and was making her way over. "Yes, she's here. I'll tell her."
"God Maura, have a freakin' heart would ya?" Jane growled when the medical examiner ended her call with Korsak.
Incensed, Maura placed her phone along with the evidence baggy down on the island and stalked right into Jane's personal space, once again pulling out the finger to the sternum trick. "No. You do not get to tell me that. You made your choice Jane. This is all your doing. You do not get to let yourself into my home, act possessive and jealous, nurse a gun or demand anything from me! Do you understand me?"
Jane stepped back involuntarily, recoiling from the vehemence in Maura's voice. They still stood close, and the anger rolling off the medical examiner was palpable and a cold realisation washed through every nerve in Jane's body. She had broken them. She opened and closed her mouth several times, fighting the urge to unleash an angry, sarcastic rebuttal. Finally she said, "Don't?" her timidity was startling to Maura, "Don't. I don't, you're right."
Maura stepped further away from the clearly reeling detective, needing the distance to enable her head to continue winning the fight. The look of stark realisation in Jane's eyes had given Maura a moment of pause, a moment to consider not completely turning her back, but she felt deep down that Jane was always going to be a runner and it wasn't her job to follow behind picking up the pieces. If Jane wanted to fix them, she had to make the effort – after knowing what it felt like to be out in the cold first. Not this exile that admittedly Maura had placed upon her already, no, something deeper, something colder – something more final.
"I, I broke this, didn't I?" Jane murmured as her hand flicked between the two of them. She had toyed with Maura's emotions, she hadn't meant to; she was running scared, but the fact remained, she had and this was the end result.
Maura's hardened gaze softened a little as she nodded hesitantly, afraid to speak, afraid to show Jane how much she hurt behind her anger. After a few moments of silence, the Doctor Isles persona slipped over her face, she gathered up her purse and keys and spoke calmly, "I am going out now Jane; I would like you to leave before I return. Please leave your key behind when you depart."
Jane stared after her as she turned on her heel to leave; snapping out of the shock her system had fallen into she called out, "Maura, wait…"
Maura hesitated for a moment, but didn't turn around, after a second passed and she heard nothing further from Jane she left without looking back.
Jane's shoulders slumped, her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest and her mind kept taunting her with visions of all the times she had hurt Maura inadvertently, stupidly and purposely.
She realised how cruel and callous she had been in the last six months; how cold she had been when she stumbled blindly into an emotionally charged situation and pulled Maura apart piece by piece until her love was laid bare. Instead of owning her own reciprocal feelings, and thus putting Maura back together, stronger, she had fled. And oh how that was coming back to haunt her, on this, the worst day of her life.
In the one day she had seen two sets of eyes that would haunt her until the day she died. The helpless, pleading, begging blue of the girl she had failed to protect and the stormy hard vitriolic hazel green of the woman she loved as she brought an end to their tenuous existence.
A/N: This is a two part story, most of part two is written, I just have one more scene to write. So hopefully up tomorrow. It gets better - eventually. As usual please be kind or constructive. Would just like to say thanks to Miss Peg my compatriate in angst... she asked me to write something, anything for her, the first four paragraphs were born and then from there I fleshed it out.