This is a re-posting of the story I have been writing for a while now, but unfortunately removed thanks to some troll-like anon' who likes to snipe from behind a computer screen. Well you know what dear anon', game over, you don't win, this story's not going anywhere whether you like it or not. To everyone that was following the original and had it disappear from the site I can only apologise, it won't happen again, I'm sticking with this ship! Much love to all you Rizzles, OUAT and other OTP authors out there, to hell with the trolls, I don't care if you only write a single sentence, at least you have the courage to put pen to paper and put yourself out there!
Rizzles unite, let's stamp this sh*t out!
I own absolutely nothing in relation to Rizzoli and Isles and make no profit from this story. It is rated M throughout for descriptions of violence, injuries and PTSD, with eventual Rizzles and smut as endgame.
Please feel free to drop me a line if you have any comments, questions or suggestions, but be warned if you decide to act like my last not so friendly ass-hat anon', I'll simply delete your comments and probably laugh at you. To the rest of you lovely readers out there, I hope you enjoy, have a great day wherever you are and whatever you're doing, much love - soldierofonebattleson.
Out of the Darkness Cometh the Light by soldierofonebattleson
Chapter One
Liquid fire burned white jagged lances of pain across her vision as her chest convulsively tightened, fighting to gasp more air into her rapidly weakening body.
Crimson blood was oozing slowly from the jaggedly gaping wound to her right temple but Detective Jane Rizzoli was just thankful that it had finally started to coagulate, having already poured all down her face and over her clothes, the loss leaving her feeling weak at the knees. Its stench coupled with the sweat and dirt clinging to her battered body was burning away at the hairs in her nostrils, as her stomach threatened to expel its contents once more.
Her eye on that side was already swollen painfully shut and sporting a hideously garish purple and blue bruise, she just prayed to God her nose hadn't been broken… again. Thick rough maritime rope was biting viciously into the now red raw skin of her wrists and ankles and the bindings were rendering her completely immobile as they secured her to the wooden crucifix. Through her good eye all she could tell was that she was in a decrepit, dank and musty old abandoned warehouse in the middle of downtown God only knows where. That and the fact that the bastard was filming her.
Unable to keep her head upright anymore she allowed it to slump forwards, her chin resting on her chest as she closed her eyes for what she thought was the final time, she felt the darkness start to wash over her and a single tear escaped her eye as it started to consume her.
Jane Rizzoli was a smart and incredibly gifted woman who had been raised in a warm and loving blue collar, Italian-American family. Her parents had wanted to sacrifice every bit of their meagre wealth for her, wanting to send their only daughter to the prestigious Boston University. Jane however, had gotten other ideas. Not wanting to put her family through the crippling financial burden that would have ensued, she had instead joined the Boston Police Department, and in time had gone on to become the youngest officer ever to make it into the Homicide Department.
Her years on the job told her she was about to meet her maker. She'd come to terms with the notion of losing her life in the line of duty a long time ago and strangely enough she found that the thought didn't fill her with the unbridled terror she had expected. The only images that were playing in her mind and tormenting her were the thoughts of losing the people she loved.
Her mom, Angela, who had only just found her feet after Jane's father had abandoned her for a younger woman. A intensely maternal and caring woman she'd always ensured Jane and her two brothers had all the love and warmth in their lives that they could ever need… even if her snooping and often unannounced arrival at the most inconvenient times to her apartment drove her crazy.
Her brothers, Franky and Tommy, meant the world to her. Franky had recently passed his Detective's exam and she was sure the charismatic and charming man he'd grown to be would one day follow in her footsteps, becoming a Homicide Detective. Even Tommy, who'd not long been released from jail was becoming the man she knew he could be, having a paternal and mature side she'd never expected to see from him when he'd discovered he had a baby son.
Detectives Frost and Korsak, her partner and Sergeant on the Force, who made the job all that much more bearable on the bad days with relentless bantering and good always managing to good humouredly annoy her on the good ones, saving her skin and theirs alike on more occasions than she could remember.
Then there was Maura. Dr Maura Isles, the Googlemouthed, Medical Examiner genius who constantly kept Jane in a state somewhere between infuriation and sheer awe. The slightly socially awkward but brilliant pathologist had become Jane's best friend, someone she confided her life to, in fact the only person on the planet she trusted enough to confess her secrets to.
She was Jane's complete antithesis, whereas Jane's hair was a wild mass of unruly curly jet black bangs and her tall frame muscular and lithe, Maura was slightly shorter than Jane and her body also slim from years of yoga, but her body held a curvaceous beauty about it which captivated both men and women alike.
Jane's daily uniform consisted of a smart pant suit, sleeves often shucked up to her elbows, tailored shirts and thanks to the long hours, comfortable boots were almost always the order of the day. Maura on the other hand dressed like a model on a catwalk everyday of her life, preferring Milano Blaniks, Alexander McQueen dresses and even when dressed in her morgue scrubs she somehow managed to look gracefully perfect. Her auburn sometimes blonde locks would cascade over her shoulders in soft curls and with the controlled poise she always seemed to hold, she painted a picture of total perfection.
Jane knew Maura didn't really have anyone else in the world other than her and her family. Maura had been adopted and her adoptive mother had brought her up through a somewhat loveless, strict, and demanding childhood.
Recently her biological family had threatened to tear that very friendship apart as Jane had been forced to shoot Maura's father in a sting, he'd been a major crime boss who'd confessed that he would have shot her if she hadn't pulled the trigger first. But Maura had pushed her away in total anguish, grief at the loss of a father she had never really known. Only the intervention of their friends and Jane's mom had got them through it and back to how they used to be.
Even only recently had Maura's biological mother accepted Maura's actual existence, having originally thought her to have died at birth. A tenuous relationship was blossoming and Jane smiled at the thought of Maura, at how selfless she was, like the time without hesitation she'd offered her dying sister, the sister she had never known, one of her own kidneys for transplantation.
Jane's thoughts turned dark and foggy as the idea of leaving Maura behind tortured her, the possibility of never seeing that beautiful smile again as she made Maura laugh with her sarcasm and impatience, it made her want to break down and cry.
The thought of never being able to hold Maura in her arms again, comforting her after the horrific cases they were often subjected to, or through their often shambolic love lives. To curl up next to her in bed on the nights when she couldn't face being alone, haunted by the nightmares of victims or the murderers who had violated both them and her. She would willingly sell her soul to the devil if it meant she could see her again for one last time. Another solitary tear slipped down her cheek, escaping Jane's iron will as she refused to breakdown and give HIM the satisfaction.
*Maura-…. I need you!…. Please! I can't do this alone, I can't beat him, I just can't…*
Then he was back. She suddenly realised her time on this mortal coil was up, Maura wasn't coming for her, she'd lost everything and now she was about to lose her life. She was alone. Finally the tears broke free, wretched sobs wracking her body not at the thought of her impending demise, but at the thought of her impending loss, her Maura.
Maura stood staring at the computer screen, her face ghostly in pallor from exhaustion and fear, her eyes swollen and red from the now dry tears which had left shimmering tracks staining her gaunt cheeks. She was paralysed with fear, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen and completely numb to the world around her. Her fists had long ago clenched in anger, tension and outright despair as she stood staring in abject defeat. She knew she was about to lose the most important person in her life, blinking as she suddenly realised she wasn't sure if she wanted to or could even manage to carry on with her own should that happen.
Her normally flawless facade betrayed the unbearable stress and worry she was suffering, clothes wrinkled and hair in slight disarray, she knew she should try to get some sleep or at least eat something as she hadn't had anything in the last 48 hrs, but at this point in time she didn't care. She refused to leave the BRIC until the situation had been resolved one way or another.
Fearfully watching the screen in front of her she suddenly gasped in terror as the suspect dressed head to toe in black military style combats and a balaclava entered the shot and manically grinned, looking directly into the camera. He then turned his back, facing the bloodied and broken figure in front of him he suddenly raised his fist and using his entire bodyweight, savagely threw a punch into the battered face before him, laughing sickeningly as it connected.
Maura heard herself screaming before she realised she'd even done it, the horrific sound cracking of bone echoing through the office coupled with that laugh instantly caused bile to burn the back of her throat as she wretched in reaction at the blood spurting from the wound, marring the now pale skin of the slumped figure.
The man turned round to face the camera once more, still smiling like a lunatic as he addressed his viewer. "Time for this fucking little cunt to die Doctor, you hear me?! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME YOU FUCKING BITCH?!" Turning back around to face his victim he reached into his pocket and something glinted in the light. "Time for your slaughter you fucking pig! Bye-bye Jane!"
Suddenly the screen turned to snow as interference destroyed the picture, cutting off both the feed and sound. "JANE-…!" Maura screamed, sobbing before breaking down completely. She collapsed to the floor unable to keep herself together anymore, crashing down onto her knees she began to weep inconsolably for what she was about to lose and all the things that had yet been to come.
She'd never had a friend before she'd met Detective Jane Rizzoli, and it hadn't been until the woman had rudely barged her way into her life, undercover as a hooker, she finally realised just how empty her life had been.
Jane was THE single most frustrating and impatient woman she had ever met, but she wouldn't have it any other way. The Detective had scarily accurate instincts, often acting on gut feeling alone, whereas Maura preferred the safety of scientific analysis and the sanctuary of logical thought processes. They should never have got on, should never have been as close as they had become. But as different as they were, Maura had found that they complimented each other perfectly, their uniqueness making them an unstoppable team. And although Jane often acted like a bull in a china shop, was sarcastic and teased her relentlessly about her Googlebrain on a daily basis, Maura realised that she was the only one in Jane's life who was privileged enough to see the who the whole person was behind that fierce facade that was Detective Jane Rizzoli.
Genuine affection mixed with a sickening feeling of mourning washed over her as she remembered the time Jane had held Tommy's abandoned son in her arms, gently rocking the precious bundle, eyes lovingly gazing down at him, or the time she'd saved Maura's leg from amputation, as well as her life, after criminals had forced their car off the road.
All the times, when things threatened to become unbearable in her life, Jane would be by her side and had been there to wrap her up in a warm hug of reassurance, coupled with that gentle heart warming smile and she'd somehow always make everything wrong in the world feel right again.
She had no idea how long she'd been kneeling on the floor for, her legs long since past feeling anymore when she felt a warm large hand clutch her shoulder. Lieutenant Cavanaugh, Jane's boss, cleared his throat gently behind her.
"Dr Isles, it's Jane, I-… we've found her-… it's… it's not good." His voice was full of aching sadness, faltering as he stumbled over the words he knew she didn't want to hear.
Maura had no idea what happened next as her body shutdown in a state of shock and the numbness completely took over. Her life would never be the same and the heartbreaking pain ripping through her very soul fracturing it in two, instantly making her feel like she wanted to just simply die right there and then rather than suffer a life without Jane.
A piercing, otherworldly scream tore from her lungs in sheer wretched pain as she slammed her fists violently into the scuffed and marked linoleum covering the office floor. She cried, screamed and pleaded until her lungs burnt desperate for air, her throat feeling like it had been slit with razor wire as warm hands slid under her arms, trying to lift her off the floor…