Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli and Isles, no matter how awesome I think they are.

Summary: Maura's birth mother and half-sister rejected her, but she has other family.

A PARENT'S LOVE

I told Jane that I was done crying and was moving onto the second stage of grief, Anger, but deep inside, my head was still whirling.

The mother I had dreamed of, who I had agonized over meeting and telling her who – what – I was, wanted nothing to do with me. Maybe she really did think that I was somehow evil, because of my father.

My father, the notorious Crime Boss, who told her that I died at birth to protect both of us. Who loved me enough to risk everything to protect me when I was in danger.

The sister I had always wanted hated me, for something I could not help, because she felt that she was constantly trying to compete with a baby. In a way, I suppose Kayleen's sister really had died that day, because I was Maura Isles, not Maura Doyle, or Martin.

I had idly dreamed of finding my birth parents, more times than I care to count, but I never dreamed that it would end like this.

The strong, independent woman that I had become pulled herself together, but the lonely little girl I had been wept inside me.

I couldn't believe that I was doing this.

The Prison Officers had seen Jane, Frost and Korsak enough times, but rarely me. I had been here once or twice to pronounce a death, or help investigate something, but that wasn't why I was here today.

I still don't know how a near-stranger could read me so easily, because the prisoner I had come to see had barely looked at me before he frowned in concern. "You're upset, Maura."

Maybe Jane's approach of the blunt facts in a delicate situation was best here, otherwise I would find myself skirting the issue for hours. "I met Dr Hope Martin on a case a few months ago, and we had dinner a few days ago." He blinked, and I fought back the tears that welled up inside me. I had finished crying while Jane handed me tissues, and this was too important for me to start again. "Her daughter wanted me to tell her the truth before she'd accept my kidney donation to save her life, and my mother said that she doesn't want anything to do with me."

I lost my inner battle, the whole wretched story pouring out between sobs. How she thought I was only telling her because she thought I wanted something, how she sometimes thought it was good that her baby had died, because of something it couldn't help. On the other side of the table, my father listened until I cried myself out for the second time in as many days.

I don't know where he got a handkerchief, but I was glad when he silently offered it to me, awkwardly patting my hand. I suppose that offering comfort was something of a new experience for him.

Paddy hadn't known about my half-brother until he was fifteen and actively sought him out, but my father had acknowledged him, even though he tried to keep him out of Crime business. My birth-father had photos of me as I grew up, kept photos of my accomplishments in his wallet, and had always watched out for me, even if usually from the background.

Above everything else, he had never lied to me, even if the truth hurt, like when I asked if he would have shot Jane if she hadn't shot him first. Truth is truth, however hard the hearing, and right now I needed to hear it. "If it was the other way around, if you thought I had died at birth, would you have still wanted me? Would you have been angry and pushed me away?"

My father's face was not built for smiling, but there had always been a fond twitch of his lips when he saw me. "I would have been furious at your mother, though I would have been glad that you had been safe. You're my daughter, above everything else, and I'm glad that Mrs Isles kept me up-to-date. I would have accepted you in a heart-beat."

I couldn't help but return the smile, a heavy weight lifting off me. Paddy would never win a prize for conventional parenting, but he loved me, no-one could deny that. He squeezed my hand lightly, offering the only comfort he knew how. "Your adopted parents love you, and you have a sister in that stubborn detective friend of yours."

Oddly, that helped. Jane was like a sister, my adopted mother loved and would risk her life for me, and Angela treated me like a second daughter. Even Frankie's stunt where he 'forgot' to tell me that the ticket for vandalism was just to get his sergeant off our backs, was not dissimilar to the way he treated Jane. I had a distant father who protected and cared about me.

I smiled again as my phone rang, the number showing that I was needed back at work. I stood up to leave, hesitating as the guard came forward to take Paddy back to his cell. "Thank you…"

I paused again, then added the title that I had wondered over giving him, but which he did sort of deserve. "…Father."

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A/N: Ok, it's a bit sappy, and I've probably got everyone totally Out of Character, but this is my first Rizzoli and Isles fic since I watched it in June, so I'd appreciate feedback. Maura obviously cried a long time after Dr Martin and her daughter left, and I think that she would have been feeling deeply insecure afterward. Feel free to tell me that I'm being an idiotic sap.

Thanks,

Nat