Being a huge Rizzoli & Isles fan, for a while I have wanted to write my own "episode". I am not quite sure how long this story will be, but I hope it gets enough love by fanfic users to develop into a full story. Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome, as I would like to improve my writing while continuing this fic.
I have noticed that a few of the show's episode name are song titles. That being said, I decided to keep that concept when naming this story. Breathing life into a nightmare is a lyric of the song "Punching in a Dream" by the band The Naked and Famous. The story title is credited to them and the characters belong to Tess Gerritsen and the show's creators at TNT. Enjoy!
Heat ripples in the air as an army truck races down a desert road. A mine explodes near the driver side window. Sgt. Major Casey Jones and four other soldiers hastily climb from the truck as the driver slams on the breaks. The car swerves. Another mine destroys the vehicle and the force of the blasts knocks soldiers off their feet. Twisted metal becomes blazing slugs. Muffled shouts turn into piercing screams.
Jane shoots awake from her slumber. Sweat glistens on her chest and small strands of hair stick to her forehead. Her breathing is fast and heavy. She squints and glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand. She attempts to blow hair out of her face. As she runs a hand through her messy waves, she loosens the bits stuck to her skin. After a quick scan of the room, she sighs, falls down on her pillow, and waits for sleep to take hold.
...
"Hi Janey," Angela says as her daughter walks into the Division One Café.
"Hi Ma," Jane stagnantly states. "Can I have a coffee?" she asks as she heads to the counter.
"Sure. I'll bring it out to you," Angela replies.
"Thanks," Jane says with a half-smile.
Jane moves to her favorite spot and plops into a chair. She rests her elbows on the table and rubs her face. Maura appears beside her and smiles.
"Maura!" she says, startled. "Don't DO that."
"Sorry, Jane," Maura replies. "I'm not quite adjusted to my increased agility resulting from a new eleuthero-infused morning tea."
"Ele-whatta?" Jane asks.
Maura fails to hold back a smile. "Eleuthero. It's a distant relative of panax ginseng and is known to increase mental acuity and physical endurance—"
"Hear you go, Janey," Mrs. Rizzoli says sweetly as she places a mug embossed with the phrase "World's Greatest Daughter" in front of Jane.
"World's Greatest Daughter?" Jane says through her teeth.
"Can't a mother show her daughter how wonderful she is?" Angela retorts.
"With a cake or sappy birthday card, yeah, but not with something that permanently shows it to the entire precinct."
"Oh, don't be so down, Janey," Angela says as she quickly pats Jane's arm and returns to the busy café counter.
"Sometimes I wish SHE was a distant relative," jokes Jane. "And I wish she would stop with that familial lingo 'Here, Janey, don't be so down, Janey,'" she mimics.
"The correct term is ekename, actually. Nickname, in English," corrects Maura.
"Thanks for that, Doc," mocks Jane and she downs her coffee and looks at the bottom of the mug. "I'm gonna need about six more of these."
"Didn't sleep well last night?" asks Maura, even though she already knew the answer due to Jane's distinct periorbital hyperpigmentation.
"No. I had a…nightmare," she said as she releases the mug and rubs her face. "About Casey."
"Casey?" asks Maura, curiously.
"Yeah. Ever since I saw him with the leg braces and he told me about getting hit with shrapnel in Iraq, I've had the same dream almost every night. I don't even know how it happened to him. My mind just...made up a story."
"Oh Jane, I'm sorry," Maura says and gently rubs Jane's hand. "Would you like to talk about it? Perhaps some research on the primitive instinct rehearsal theory of dreaming will help you overcome this recurring nightmare."
"No, no, I'm okay, Maura. I just need a distraction," Jane says, chuckling. She was still amused by what seemed to be Maura's innate knowledge of everything.
At that moment, Jane's cell phone buzzes. "Looks like I got that distraction. We have a murder."