A/N: Lee Thompson Young's death hurts everyone concerned in the worst possible way. He took his own life. Because of that, we are not only facing the sadness of losing him, but we have to deal with the added agony of knowing it could have been prevented.

I'm not going to give you a 'Frost-dies-saving-his-friends' kind of tribute to Lee. Honestly, although reading several of those proved to be part of the catharsis that I needed, I feel the truth of what happened should shine through in what I write. I do not wish to demonise - or glorify - what Lee did, but we need to take the fact that suicide happens by its ugly horns and do something about it. I hope this can be a catalyst.

It was the call that no cop anticipates. But, in every way, it was far worse than the call every cop dreads.

Jane was woken up at 7:49 am by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She flopped over and, eyes squeezed shut, fumbled for it. She grabbed it and answered.

"Rizzoli."

"Jane, it's me," Maura said. The tone of her voice immediately set off alarm bells in Jane's head - she had clearly been crying.

"What's wrong, Maura?"

"You need to come to headquarters. Now."

"On my way. What's wrong?" Jane asked again, but Maura had hung up.

Jane walked into the lobby and stopped dead as she took in the scene.

Maura's face was stained with tears. She wasn't crying, but the glazed look on her face spoke volumes about the amount of tears she had already shed. She was sitting with her back to the wall and her knees pulled to her chest. Korsak was standing by the memorial wall. He was staring off into the distance, a world of agony expressed by his twisted face.

Other officers were standing around. Many were crying. A few were just standing there in blank shock.

"What the hell is going on?" Jane almost screamed. Then it hit her. "Where's Frost?"

Lt. Cavanaugh, who had been standing by Korsak, came over to her. "Jane," he said softly. "Barry committed suicide last night."

Jane stared at him blankly for a moment. Forcing a laugh, she said "You're kidding, right?" Her eyes pleaded with him to say yes, this was just a cruel joke. Yes, her partner was fine.

Yes, Barry Frost was stronger than that.

The deep sadness in Cavanaugh's eyes spoke thousands of words. He shook his head, unable to say anything more.

Jane fell to her knees, face ashen, then slumped to the floor as the knowledge sunk in. It became a spear, driving directly into her heart; then poison, coursing through her veins. The pain built, and built, and built, until it ripped out of her in a scream.

She keened her loss, until she suddenly found her lungs empty. Gasping for breath, Jane felt her eyes burn as her tears started to fall.

Distantly, she was aware of hands touching her, trying to offer comfort. She allowed them to help her up, support her, lead her to a car and help her in. But nothing really made it through the haze of pain.

Her partner had killed himself. He had decided there was no other option but death, and she didn't realise it in time to do anything to stop him. She had failed him.

It was the kind of pain that would never fully heal.