A/N: I've been working on this story for a while. This will be a multi-chapter story. Doesn't really have anything to do with the exact events of season three but there will be mentions in this chapter of things that have happened so if you haven't seen any of season three yet then you will probably get spoiled. There is some mild language.

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Not making money. Etc.

Jane Rizzoli was late, very, very late. She looked at the ER doctor who flashed his little light pen in her eye for the hundredth time with a disgruntled growl. "You're making me late!"

"For a very important date?" The doctor answered back laughing slightly at his own joke.

Jane rolled her eyes as he put the light pen away. "Yes, actually."

"Hmm." The doctor murmured scribbling something down in the binder in front of him. "You might want to call him and cancel. I want you to get a CAT scan."

"No!" Jane shouted standing a little unsteady on her feet. "You don't understand. He's not the kind of guy you cancel on. He's – he's Casey. And he's a wounded veteran. And he likes me, which if you knew me at all is a freaking hard thing to do. And I promised him I'd be there tonight. So I can't just cancel on him." She took a deep breath. "Look, the guy I was chasing just punched me in the face. I was only out for like a minute tops. I've been through worse. I don't need a scan or whatever else you want me to have. Just give me the AMA papers and I'll be out of your hair."

The doctor dropped his shoulders giving Jane a very stern look over the rim of his reading glasses. "Detective it seems to me that if he truly loves you as you say then he would want you to be healthy and taken care of. He wouldn't want you risking a serious injury for him. Brain traumas can be harmful and I've read your medical history, I'd really feel much more comfortable if you were to have a CAT scan."

"You're not hearing me doctor." Jane said waving her arms around. Her face hurt, she was tired and the longer she had this conversation the longer explanation she had to give Casey. "Give. Me. The. Papers. Or I will find some dirt on you or this hospital."

The doctor would have gave a better response but the detective in front of him still had her gun in its holster and the look on her face said she definitely wasn't afraid to use it. Promptly, he shut the binder. "I'll have a nurse bring them in for you."

…

An hour later Jane found herself fluffing her hair getting out of a taxi in front of La Beau Truc, why Casey chose this restaurant was beyond her. She bent over at the knees. The doctor was probably right. She should've cancelled and stayed at the hospital if nothing more than to appease her mother, but she had promised Casey that she would be there. And if there was one thing Jane Rizzoli didn't do, it was break a promise, no matter how honorable the cause was. After getting her vision and balance back she walked into the restaurant trying to ignore the strange looks she was getting. She knew from experience, and Maura's flabbergasted look, that slightly scruffy work attire should not be worn in this particular restaurant, but it wasn't like she had the opportunity to go change. She told the maître d who she was with and followed him to Casey. Her smile widened when she saw the man in question. He was wearing a suit that was most definitely not military issue and she decided almost immediately he definitely looked very handsome. She bent down kissing him on the cheek before taking her own seat. "Sorry, I'm late and I uh," She looked down at her attire with a dry laugh. "And I didn't get to change. But I'm here!"

"You are late." Casey said before taking a sip of his wine glass. He looked up at his girlfriend and only then noticed the redness and swelling on the left side of her face. "What happened to you?"

Jane was taken aback by his tone. "I know, and I said I'm sorry. It's nothing." She folded her napkin across her lap smoothing out all the wrinkles.

"Did you have backup with you?"

Jane rolled her eyes already tired of where this conversation was headed. "Yes."

"Well where the hell were they when that happened to you?" He pointed to her face.

"Chasing the other guy."

"What happened?" Casey insisted.

Jane's eyebrows shot up. Breathe, just breathe. "It's an ongoing investigation, I'm not at liberty to discuss it."

"I'm your boyfriend."

Jane reached across the table looking for his hand but he pulled back. "Casey, I'm fine." She said as earnestly as possible.

"I love you, Jane." He smiled sadly. "I asked you here because," He pulled a long box from his coat and placed it on the table. "I wanted to ask you to move in with me." He flipped the box open revealing a brand new shiny silver key.

Jane's hand flew over her mouth in surprise. "Oh, Casey."

"It's a big step, but I want you to know what my intentions are." He paused grabbing Jane's hand. His fingers traced over the scars on her palms. They were what he looked at while he finished talking. "I need to know you'll be more careful, that you'll take less risks." Jane was about to agree. It seemed reasonable but before she could say anything he kept talking. "Maybe you'll let the guys take over for you when you go out into the field, maybe make it home for dinner every once in a while." He was grinning now. But Jane, Jane was not.

She pulled her hand away. "I can't do that." He was asking too much of her. Hell, she was here in this stupid restaurant that she hated with a bruised face because she thought this guy loved her. She thought he would take her, self-inflicted gunshot wounds and all. She thought he was different, he had always been different. He was in the army. He knew what it was like, the rush and the bullets. He knew what being a cop meant to her and here he was trying to change the very thing that her entire life centered around? She loved him but if he made her choose it was going to be the job. Always, hands down, every time.

"Jane, it's just a job. It's not like I'm asking you to quit. I'm just suggesting you have normal hours, maybe you take a desk position, slow it down a bit. I want to know that you're safe and," He looked at her hands. "I don't want you to put your life in danger just because you can."

Jane yanked her hands back from his grip and scooted her chair away from the table. "My "job" is who I am. I thought you knew that? I thought you understood that?"

"Jane, the people you help aren't worth your life." His voice dripped with a patronization, like he knew something she didn't know. She'd grown accustomed to it from other people, but never Casey. And that was when she knew that the thing with him was never going to work out because he saw her as an inferior just like every other man she dated, it just took it longer for it to come out of Casey than it did with the others.

"I really can't do this." She shook her head as she stood.

"What do you mean?" Finally, panic started to seep into his voice.

"You're making me choose between you and the job. I pick the job." She threw her napkin on the table and started to leave. She didn't turn back even as she heard Casey calling after her yelling excuses. She didn't look back when she went through the doors or when she got in the taxi. The tears were held in the entire ride as anger masked over the sadness of what she had just done. The taxi stopped right in front of the hospital she had just left. Her head really did hurt and she figured getting that CAT scan was probably more beneficial to her health than drinking the contents of her refrigerator. She got out giving the driver his dues. She walked into the hospital and up to the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli, I was just here like an hour and a half ago for a head thing." She pointed to her bruised face. "I'm looking for Dr. Walker."

The receptionist nodded her head with a smile. "I'll let him know you're here."

Jane sat in the waiting room for only a few minutes before Dr. Walker came to get her. "I'm glad you decided to come back Detective. How'd the date go?" He asked pointing to the bed for her to sit on.

"We broke up." Jane said simply her voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

"Oh." He said as he shined the light in her eye again. "I'm going to order you that CAT scan but I'm going to say you have a concussion. I want to keep you here overnight for observation." He folded his binder closed before walking to the door. "I'm sorry to hear about your date but I am glad you came back head injuries can be tricky. I'll have a nurse take you down for the CAT scan when it's ready and I'll have someone bring you an icepack and some pain reliever for your face and head." Then the doctor left.

Jane sighed, scooting further back onto the bed. Her phone vibrated on her hip. It was Casey. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she turned the phone completely off. A few minutes later a nurse came in taking her away.

It had been two hours. Jane knew that because she'd been checked on twice by the hospital staff to make sure she was still living and breathing. She'd been given some pain relievers, had the scan and taken her shoes and belt off in that time frame. She still kept her phone off not wanting to deal with people. Why couldn't people get it? Everyone acted like she didn't know what her job meant. But she knew, she knew what she signed up for and she signed up anyway. She knew what it meant when she stepped in front of a loaded gun for someone. She knew what it meant when she stuck her neck out there, or walked out on that ledge. She knew. But she did it anyway because she took an oath. She raised her right hand in her full uniform all those years ago and swore to protect and serve the city of Boston. And Casey – he knew what that was like because he did it. He took an oath to protect the country and he got seriously injured while doing it. How dare he be the one to talk about dangers and jobs not being worth the ultimate sacrifice? The people that she helped, the people that she brought justice for were worth it. They deserved everything she had in her, because life gave them the short end of the stick and it was her job to at least try to make that stick a little longer for them. She didn't want to die but she wasn't afraid of dying and if that scared people then tough luck. And the way he said that it was just a job like being a homicide detective was the same thing as a chef or a secretary irritated the hell out of her. He had some nerve. She really thought he was different, that he understood what she was about. She really and honestly thought that he got her. She sighed shifting the icepack on her face. Well, there goes another failed relationship because of the job. Why couldn't people just accept her as she was, badge and all? Why did everyone always want to change her? Was she that screwed up, that damaged, that broken that loving her meant changing her?

…

Maura Isles walked into the hospital with an overnight bag over her shoulder. Casey had called her to ask her if she would tell Jane he was sorry and he didn't mean to come off sounding the way he did, he really wanted to talk to her when she cooled off. After getting off the phone she called Jane's cell to find out what happened, but it was off. Through some detective work of her own she dropped Jo Friday off at her house, packed a bag of Jane's things and made her way to the hospital. Once she got there her suspicions had been correct. She followed the instructions the nurse gave her to get to her friend's room.

She saw the lanky detective laying on her back with her eyes closed and an icepack on the left side of her face. Maura noticed her shoes were on the floor and her belt which still had her badge and gun attached to it was sitting on the chair beside her bed.

"Maura?" Jane opened her right eye a crack giving the medical examiner a questioning look.

Maura nearly jumped. "I thought you were asleep."

Jane shook her head just slightly careful not to make too many sudden movements. "How'd you find me?" She sat up further on the bed taking the icepack off.

Maura reached for Jane's file at the end of the bed flipping through the pages to read what the doctors had written about her friend. "You're not the only one capable of deductive reasoning."

"I'm not dying, you can stop looking at that." Jane sighed.

"A concussion, definitely not life threatening. You are correct." The medical examiner placed the file back in its allotted space. "Jane." Maura started unsure of what to say next. She would do anything just to make the woman lying in the hospital bed smile. Jane had been smiling a lot recently since she started seeing Casey on a regular basis. But at the moment it was like all the happiness was gone from her face, her body. She looked tired, very, very tired and much older than her thirty-five years.

"Don't, Maura, just…don't." Jane interrupted. She really didn't want to hear it. That was why she didn't call. She didn't want to be around people that wanted to make her happy or smile. She just wanted to be angry and sad and confused and hurt without persecution. She didn't want to hear how she deserved better or any other rainbow and sunshine bullshit people fed the broken hearted to make them feel better. Because it wasn't the truth, it never was.

Maura placed the bag at the foot of Jane's bed. "Well, if you want to get out of those clothes I brought you some pajamas."

"Which ones?"

"Blue plaid pants, fluffy socks and a black BPD t-shirt." Maura answered pulling them from the bag.

"Okay." Jane took the garments from her hands. "Can you get the door and the blinds? I don't feel like walking all the way down the hall to the bathroom." Maura turned to face the now closed door to give Jane some privacy as she changed clothes. She heard the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric before Jane spoke. "I'm good."

Maura took a moment to stare at her friend. Her shoulders were sunken bordering on hunched, and her eyes took on a level of sadness that she rarely ever saw. Defeated. The word shocked Maura down to her core. It was not a word that would ever be used to describe the detective. She had never seen Jane Rizzoli give up, never saw her look so down trodden, so…lost. It was almost like in this moment Jane had given up on something, something very, very important. Maura wasn't sure what it was but the decision had been made, she could see it in the darkness of the detective's eyes. She took a steadying breath. "Jane, I know you. This – whatever happened – it's not your fault. So don't be sitting there thinking that it is." Jane didn't say anything nor did she move. Maura took the time to fold Jane's work clothes and sick them in the bag.

"It is though." Jane confessed breaking the silence, her voice was barely a whisper as the words cracked out of her mouth. Maura turned to her friend giving Jane her full undivided attention. "I don't know if I loved him loved him, but I could've." She paused. "I just…he's Casey. He's smart and funny and handsome and he liked me and I really liked him. And I thought, I thought I was ready, you know? I really thought it could work." She started playing with the hem of her shirt. "At dinner, he asked me to move in with him and for the first time I wasn't scared of the commitment. But then," Jane gave a dry laugh as she stared at the plaid of her pants. "He wanted me to take less hours, be home for dinner, not go into the field as much. And I just…I can't." She wiped her hand under her nose. Maura handed her a tissue. "He wanted me to choose and I chose the job. I'll always pick the job. Maybe that makes me a bad person. Maybe my priorities are screwy. Maybe I'm just destined to be alone for the rest of my life. I mean if I couldn't make it work with Casey, then really…" She trailed off wadding the tissue in her hands forcing herself not to cry. After all, this was what she wanted. "What is so wrong with me, Maura? Why can't people just love me? Why am I always the one that has to bend? Why is there always a but?" Her voice held a delicate softness of a woman with a broken heart.

"I don't know, Jane. Bad taste in partners?" Jane couldn't help the snort of laughter that came from her chest. Maura dug around once more in the bag before pulling out a pint of ice cream. Jane scooted over to make room on the bed. Maura lay down next to her handing a spoon over and peeling off the lid of the ice cream. "But I do know you're not a bad person. You are one of the bravest, strongest, most loyal people I have ever had the great fortune to meet and know. You deserve better, you deserve someone who will love you unconditionally, job and all." She grabbed Jane's free hand giving it a squeeze before letting go. "Don't give up on love, yet."

Silence fell over the pair once more, each lost in thought while taking small spoonful's of the ice cream. Jane sucked on her spoon letting the coolness fill her mouth. After a moment of deep thought she spoke. "I think I was more in love with the idea of Casey than I was with Casey himself. It feels like I expected so much from him, you know? Like I thought he was perfect or something." She dug her spoon into the ice cream in Maura's hand. "I don't know what I'm saying. It just doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, I guess, though it still stings like a bitch. Maybe it's because it happened already once. Maybe it's because I'm tired." Jane shrugged sticking the spoon into her mouth again.

"Maybe it's the good company." Maura added with a smile sticking her own spoon in the ice cream.

Jane laughed nudging Maura with her shoulder. "Look at you being funny." Jane took in her clothes, the ice cream and the body next to her. Maura was always walking in when the rest of the world was walking out on her. "You're too good to me, Maur." She said softly.

Maura smiled sadly. "I'm your best friend." She knocked their knees together. "It's a job requirement. Eat your ice cream."

Jane chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

A/N: It was a lot harder than I anticipated writing Jane/Casey so I'm hoping the end of this chapter made up for the slightly ooc Casey. For this story I'm going to say they were dating probably three-four months when this happened. I have the whole story mapped out and four chapters written far. I'll post every few days or so.

Thanks for reading!