Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.
TRIGGER WARNING: Self Harm & mentions of abuse. This story is pretty dark. So be warned! Also very Out of Character Maura.
A/N: A special thanks to sweetkid45 & cecilis for talking me into re-uploading this! I just so we are perfectly clear this is fiction and that the show version of Maura would likely never act like she does in this story. If you do not like this, please consider not reading any further. But please do not tell me that Maura would never be stupid enough to do this. I find that very offensive and in no way constructive. Self-harm and domestic abuse are very real issues that a lot of people have at some point faced or are currently facing. I think they are topics which are often ignored when they should be addressed and discussed and help provided where possible. Nobody who has or is enduring this is stupid. Obviously, this story is very close to my heart and whilst constructive criticism is welcomed, please do not berate or say that these topics are stupid. This is currently a one-shot but I hope to continue at some point :) Thanks for reading my long A/N!
Maura enters her house and closes the door behind her as quietly as possible. The last thing she needs right now is an interruption from Angela. As much as she loves Angela, this needs to be done. She needs to do this. A million thoughts and words run through her head as she approaches the kitchen.
She opened the drawer and retrieved the required tool. Closing the drawer, she sunk to the floor. Leaning her head back till it made contact with the now closed drawer, she examined the tool in her hands, wondering if she should go through with it. She closed her eyes, remembering all the words and actions of others that had brought her to this point.
"Maura the Bore-A" her classmates jeered, all pointing and laughing.
Maura twirled the instrument in her hand as her memories flooded back.
"Queen of the dead" the officer whispered as she walked past.
Her eyes still closed, Maura ran her finger along the grooves in the grip handle of the tool as if by doing so she could somehow understand why. As if this instrument somehow held the answers to all the questions she had. As if this object could somehow fix the pain in her head and in her heart.
"You're like me" Charles Hoyt sneered.
Her eyes snapped open at this memory. Maura remembered it like it was yesterday. That statement lead to a similar process as what was about to happen tonight. That one simple sentence had all but destroyed her.
She intently studied to tool once more. There were obviously many different objects around the house that could have been used for this purpose, but this was her favourite. She held it tightly in both hands, moving it backwards and forwards. Watching as the light caught the metal. It was almost spellbinding.
Pressing down on the button she slowly pushes it forward. Each click seems to reverberate in the room. Each click brings Maura one step closer. Each click takes her one step closer to the precipice. Each click is one less chance to back out. After three clicks the point of the blade starts to peek out from it's housing. Maura pushes further foward until another two clicks are heard.
She stops momentarilly, staring at the knife, remembering what happened just a few hours ago that brought her to this point.
"Son of a bitch killed his own wife! I knew he did it. Let's go nail him Frankie." Jane motioned to her brother. Both detectives started making their way to the interrogation room, only stopping when Maura spoke up.
"Can I watch Jane?" Maura simply had to see what the suspect had to say.
"Ah...Okay?" Jane said, her brow burrowed in confusion. Maura understood that it was an unusual request and had she been alone with Jane, she may have explained her interest. However, she did not want Frankie to know. She decided then it was best if no one found out. Not even Jane.
"We know you killed your wife Ryan!" Jane exclaims as she brings her fists down on the table in front of them. Maura watched the suspect intently. He did not even flinch. Instead a smirk started to appear. "Are you even going to deny it?" Jane screeched.
"Bitch had it coming." He snarled, smirk still evident.
Maura could see that Jane was at breaking point. Frankie could see it to. He gently placed his hand on his sister's arm in an attempt to calm her down before he continued the questioning. "We found evidence of repeated abuse on your wife's body Ryan. You are going away for a long time."
"She. Fucking. Deserved. It." Ryan said through clenched teeth. "She forced me to marry her. She got herself pregnant and then forced me to fucking marry her. She was a bitch and I'm glad she's dead."
"Do you even care about what is going to happen to your daughter now Ryan? You killed her mother and you are going away for the rest of your life!" Jane yelled in the suspect's face.
Ryan lent back in his chair and smirked once more. "I don't care. I got what I wanted."
"Oh yeah, and what was that?" Frankie asked.
"I got to kill that bitch. I got to watch the life drain out of her."
Maura couldn't stand by idly anymore. Before her brain could catch up to her feet, she found herself swinging open the door to the interrogation room. "How could it be her fault?!" She yelled as she ran over to Ryan and grabbed at his shirt.
"What the hell Maura?!" Jane yelled. But, Maura did not hear, she was too distracted by the thoughts in her own head.
The suspect's expression went from shock to understanding. Staring at Maura, he whispered so that only she could hear: "I bet you deserved it too."
Maura felt the world spinning around her. She felt a hand on her arm, gently squeezing. She looked up to see Jane talking to her but the words never reached her ears. She had to get out of there. Now. She yanked her arm away from Jane's hand and ran out the door.
"I deserved it." Maura mumbled as a shaking hand brought the blade to her wrist.
"I deserved it." She whispered as she softly pressed the blade to her flesh.
"I deserved it." She chanted, determination hitting her.
"I DESERVED IT!" She screamed as she pushed the blade into her wrist as hard as her willpower would allow.
"I DESERVED IT" She repeated as she pulled the blade, tearing at her skin.
"MAURA!" Jane yelled as she ran over to her friend.
Maura looked up at Jane running over to her. She didn't want her to see this. She looked down at her crimson wrist. She watched as the knife slowly fell from her grasp, listening intently as it clattered to the floor. "I'm sorry Jane." she whispered, broken.
"Maura, sweetie..." Jane reached for a clean dishcloth and pressed it gently to her friend's wound. Tears streaming down her face. Jane sunk to the floor beside Maura and wrapped her arms around her lovingly, pulling her in for a warm embrace.
Neither woman moved for over ten minutes. Jane then gently removed the dishcloth to look at how bad the injury was. But she wasn't the doctor. She had no idea if Maura needed to go to a hospital.
"It won't need stitches." Maura broke her silence to answer the detective's internal question.
Jane looked from Maura's wrist up to her face. She could see the pain evident in her best friends features. She just had to know. "Why Maur?"
"Because I deserved it." Maura whispered in response.
Thank you for reading! :)