Note: This is a five times story, well a five times plus one. If you don't know what a five times story is, well, basically it's five (or six) mini stories on the same theme. So this one is five times Jane saves Maura, so five different situations where Jane has saved Maura's life. Sometimes people write a bonus one - so five times something happened and one time it didn't/the opposite. This time, the extra part is one time Maura saves Jane. The stories don't follow on from each other, but they're sort of in the same timeline, just at different points.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles.
The streetlamp flickered above Doctor Maura Isles car when she reached the crime scene. She picked up her medical bag, locked the car doors and slipped a pair of purple gloves over her hands. She'd lived in Boston her whole life and had never set foot in that part of town before. Her attention caught by the crowd of unshaven people, wearing ripped and unclean clothing, talking like it was the middle of the day. As she wandered down the street towards the crime scene, ladies in very little scattered around neighbouring street corners. No, Maura had never been round there before. At least not in the early hours of the morning. She dragged her attention away from the sad eyes of a man talking away to himself, to the officer stood watching her.
"Are you the new medical examiner?" he asked with a tilt of his head as his eyes travelled down her new, and very expensive, couture dress. When his eyes rested on her chest, she pulled her jacket closed and looped the button.
"Doctor Maura Isles," she said, reaching a hand out to him. "Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."
"That's great," he said, ignoring her hand. "But I'm gonna need to see some ID."
"Oh," Maura shook her head. She knew she'd forgotten something. She'd worked for the Medical Examiner's Office for years. She knew how it all worked, and yet, being dragged away from the comfort of Cambridge crime scenes, Maura's nerves were on overdrive. She handed him the identification badge issued to her just two days before. He held it longer than Maura deemed necessary, his eyes trailing her body up and down once more.
He handed the card back. "You're young. Everyone thought the old guy would finally get a promotion."
"Thank you," she said, slipping the card back into her purse and ignoring the officers comments.
The officer pulled the police tape up and Maura slipped underneath. She'd done this before. She was an expert. They wouldn't have given her the job if she wasn't capable of doing it. But she still felt the beat of her heart banging against her rib cage, demanding her to fight or run away. She stood upright, ran her hands down her dress, steadied her breathing and stepped forwards. Now was not the time to be scared. There was a murder that needed solving.
After theorising the cause and time of death, gathering as much information as she needed and well and truly pissing off the sergeant on scene, Maura returned to her car. She watched momentarily as the young woman, a prostitute, was loaded into the back of the vehicle to be sent to the morgue. Maura bowed her head. She had lived a privileged life, one that she opted to remain in for many years. She didn't know what to expect from her first case as Chief, but she knew this wasn't it.
"Don't hang around here."
Maura turned at the sound of the voice. The woman; tall, with dark curls, looked as out of place as she felt. But her fishnet stockings, tiny skirt, and blouse closed with only a couple of buttons, looked the part. She lingered in the darkness a few feet away. Maura watched her for a moment, then stepped forwards.
"I'm not," she said, squinting in the flickering light. "Do you need some money?"
The woman laughed, a full belly chuckle that made Maura feel a little insecure. She'd never been very good at social situations, and despite spending a few years working with some of Africa's most vulnerable people, she was still ill equipped for the difficulties of her home nation.
"It's not safe here," the woman said, her voice caught in a rasp. "You should go home."
"I'll be fine; are you sure you don't need any money?" Maura asked, slipping her medical bag down her arm and searching for her wallet.
"Get out of here lady, before your Louis Chanel gets you in trouble."
"I don't know what a Louis Chanel is."
"The designer."
"Oh. Louis Vuitton, or Calvin Klein?"
"What?"
"The dress is Calvin Klein; the shoes are Louis Vuitton."
"I don't care what it is, lady, you need to get out of here before you get yourself in trouble."
"I was just leaving."
"If you say so," she said, disappearing into the darkness before Maura could respond.
She glanced around the street again. The flickering light had dimmed, the congregation of strangers had increased, and women continued to line every corner. A man drove up to one, she dipped her head into the window, and a moment later they were driving off together. Maura furrowed her brow. She found her keys and unlocked the car.
Reaching out to open the door, a hand landed on her shoulder, on the strap of her medical bag. Maura felt a tugging, but didn't dare turn around. Her heart raced, her palms grew damp and she begged silently for everything to work out okay. When her bag slipped down her shoulder, she twisted round, her eyes landing on the dark orbs of a man with a grey-speckled beard and halitosis.
"Please," she whispered, not wanting to lose the brand new medical bag her father had bought her for getting the promotion.
After a brief tussling back and forth, Maura continued to stand her ground. She regretted opting for yoga instead of taking self defence classes. It was too late to consider what ifs, though. The man let go, his hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled out a small blade. The flickering light highlighted the sharp end, then it vanished again as the light faded again. Maura froze. Her fight or flight instincts had failed her. She attempted to swallow but even her oesophagus had frozen.
"Get your hands off her," someone shouted, a woman's voice that seemed vaguely familiar. When the woman who'd warned her off appeared, Maura's instincts caught up with her and she fumbled for the handle to her car.
The woman and the man collided, and the blade landed on the ground with a clatter. Maura considered running back to the crime scene, but they'd started packing up before she left and she doubted anyone would be left now. She stared at the woman and caught her eye for the briefest moment. When she nodded her head, Maura took it as permission to leave. She slammed the car door closed behind her and begged that the woman would survive her act of bravery. Maura reached for her cell phone to dial for assistance, but when she turned to the street again, the woman, and her attacker had both gone.
Before she could change her mind, Maura pressed down on the gas and sped off out of the neighbourhood back to the comfort of Beacon Hill and her home.
"Remind me why I'm doing this?" Jane asked, standing in the corridor with her hands on her hips.
"Because, as someone who protects people, you need to know how to save them," Maura said.
Jane raised her eyebrows. "I work with dead people, Maura."
"Not true," Maura said. "You solve murders, but the majority of your work actually involves the living. The families and friends of victims, the perpetrators. What if you were in an interview and one dropped down in front of you? Would you know what to do?"
"Call 911."
Tilting her head to the side, Maura frowned. "Jane."
"I work in a police department, Maura, there are literally hundreds of people around every day. One of them has got to know how to do CPR."
"After today, that someone is you," Maura said, motioning towards the door to the session.
Jane folded her arms across her chest. She knew it was almost time for the session to begin, and she knew it would fight against Maura's anxiety over punctuality if she held them in the corridor any longer. But she stood her ground anyway.
"I already know how to do CPR."
"But are you currently certified?"
"Does it really matter?" Jane asked, shrugging her shoulders. "I doubt a dying murderer is going to ask me if I'm certified when I'm trying to save his life."
"Or her life."
"Whatever, Maura."
"Of course it matters, Jane," Maura said. "Techniques can change, and it's important to attend a refresher course."
"Even you?"
"Yes, even me."
"Why? You already know everything."
"Knowing and being certified are two different things," Maura said. "You really should have refreshed your skills years ago."
Jane sighed. "I was gonna, but then, Jo Friday got sick, and Tommy…ate my homework, and Ma needed a ride to the movie theatre."
"I thought you'd enjoy it," Maura said. "It goes towards your training requirement for the year, and there's very little reading involved."
"But there's listening, Maura," Jane said, gritting her teeth. "And I really hate listening to someone who talks like a robot and says the same thing three times in different ways in case we didn't get it the first damn time."
"You never know when you may need to save a life."
"I hope you know I'm doing this under duress."
"Duly noted," Maura said, reaching for the door handle and leading them inside.
At the end of the session, Maura slipped her purse over her arm and exited the room with Jane a few paces behind her.
"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" she asked.
"No," Jane said, slouching her shoulders as she trailed behind. "It was worse. It was boring. That man in there is even worse than Doctor Boring."
"Doctor Pike and Doctor Epstein are both competent doctors."
"They're also deathly boring," she said, glaring back at the door as they walked down the corridor away from it.
"At least you're now certified," said Maura. "You can administer emergency aid as and when it's necessary."
"Or I could just call you."
"If there isn't time to call me," Maura said. "You will know what to do."
"Because I'm really going to need to know how to treat a burn on a daily basis."
"More than two million Americans are recorded as receiving burns each year, a figure that does not consider the millions of minor burns that we treat at home. If you look at the number of people in BPD each day, the likelihood that one person may receive a burn in your company is high."
Jane rolled her eyes. "They'll survive."
"Just like you will survive eating alone while I'm eating the take out pizza currently on its way to my home."
"You ordered pizza?" Jane's eyes lit up.
"I thought it would be a nice treat for you after doing something you didn't really enjoy. But since you're being petulant, you can eat alone."
"Oh come on, Maura, that's not fair!"
"I suppose I can make an exception."
"Thank you," Jane said, wrapping an arm around Maura's shoulder and kissing her on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you."
Sitting on Maura's couch, Jane hungrily ate the pizza, each mouthful tasted as good as the one before, and the ones proceeding. Silence fell over them whilst they ate. Jane watched Maura take a bite. Despite the crappy day, she was glad that she'd done it, because if she hadn't sat through hours of emergency aid, then she might not have gotten the pizza she so much appreciated. Maura's face crumpled up, and she started spluttering. Jane frowned.
"You okay?"
Maura shook her head. The longer Jane watched her coughing, the faster her heart raced inside of her chest.
"Okay, wait, what do I do?" Jane asked, running through the steps they'd gone through earlier that day. "You're coughing, that's good, right?"
Maura nodded, but the second she pulled her head back up, the coughing subsided and her face changed colour. Jane stared at her, frozen briefly as she watched her best friend choking beside her.
"No, no, don't stop coughing," she said, resting her hand on Maura's shoulder. "Coughing is good. Don't do this to me, Maura."
Closing her eyes, Jane considered the next steps. She opened her eyes and pulled on Maura's hands, lifting her to her feet. Then she moved behind her, pushed her forwards and smacked her a handful of times on her back. The sound of Maura choking continued to haunt Jane's mind, pulling her attention away from her need to stay calm as fear overwhelmed her. Maura hit the couch hard with her palm.
"Harder?" Jane asked, though no response came. She rested her hand back on Maura's upper back and smacked her harder five times. "Sheesh."
When nothing happened, Jane wondered whether she should just give up and call 911. But the session earlier that day told her that it would be too late by then.
"Let's try again," she said, smacking Maura once, twice, three more times on her back. When Maura started coughing, relief spread through Jane's body and she collapsed onto the couch. "I guess you were right."
Maura sunk onto the couch beside her, her breathing laboured but very much there. "Th, thank you."
"Doctor Isles, can you please detail the injuries found on the victim, Portia Vasquez, on the night she was murdered?" the prosecutor said as he paced back and forth in front of her.
Maura frowned. "Do you mean the night she was found or the night when she was actually attacked, because she died four days before her body was reported?"
"The night she was found," he said.
"I arrived at the crime scene around six in the evening." Maura clasped her hands together and rested them on her knee. "Her body was on the floor beside the dumpster."
"Just her injuries will suffice, Doctor Isles."
"Oh, I'm sorry. There was a small laceration above her right eyebrow. Contusions on her knuckles. She had a broken index finger. Her rib cage was damaged, one rib, six on the right, was broken, which had punctured a lung. She also had severe damage to her spine – C5 to 7 and T1 through 8 – which included bruising, and several randomly located puncture wounds across her back."
"And what exactly killed her?" he asked.
"Internal and external bleeding caused by the damage to her rib cage and spine, left untreated for a number of days," said Maura, exuding confidence in her understanding of the case.
"So the defendant beat Ms Vasquez to the point of causing serious, internal bleeding, and left her to die. Is that right?"
"I…" she began, but she was quickly cut off.
"Objection, your honour," the defence attorney said, standing up. "The medical examiner cannot possibly comment on whether my client left her to die."
"On the contrary," the prosecutor said, turning to face the judge. "Doctor Isles has already stated that the injuries left untreated caused Ms Vasquez's death."
"But she cannot possibly know whether the accusation of attack was followed by my client's desire to leave her to die," the defence attorney stated.
The prosecutor glanced from the attorney to the judge and nodded. "Withdrawn. Doctor Isles, in your expert opinion, had Ms Vasquez been found on the night she was beaten do you believe she would have survived?"
"It is possible," she said, taking a sip of water.
"But given the evidence from the detective who attended the crime scene, the location of her body was just so that it was next to impossible for anyone to discover Ms Vasquez in time to save her. Thus, making the defendants actions murderous."
"Objection, your honour," the defence attorney stood again, his arms folded across his chest.
"Sustained," the judge said, glancing at the prosecutor, her eyes wide in warning. "Doctor Isles is not here to comment on another witness's statement."
"Doctor Isles," the prosecutor said. "What can you tell us about how exactly Portia Vasquez sustained these injuries?"
Maura unclasped her hands and re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction. Giving herself a moments pause to consider her answer. "The damage to her knuckles was likely caused by a punch, the fact the damage was only to two of her knuckles suggests a self defence punch rather than an unprovoked attack. The damage to her ribs and spine are conducive to being hit by a weapon."
"And were you able to identify the weapon?" he asked, glancing at the jury to ascertain that he had their full attention.
"The unusual puncture wounds on her back were easily identifiable as a weapon that had a metal engraved plate."
"A metal engraved plate? So when the detectives assigned to the case found a walking stick in the defendant's possession, with a metal head bearing a fraternity symbol, were you able to find evidence to suggest this was the weapon used to beat Ms Vasquez?"
Maura nodded. "The walking stick found in Mr Santorini's possession was found to have a small amount of blood matching the victim's, which led me to believe that yes, this was the weapon used."
Jane stood outside the courthouse. After a long day struggling to find a lead in the latest case, Jane needed a drink. More than anything, she needed to spend some time with her best friend. She watched the doors, waiting for the moment when Maura would leave for the day. Taking an early mark didn't sit well with Jane, but she knew the trial Maura was giving evidence in was just as trying. Having taken the stand on several occasions, she'd always left the courthouse shattered. When Maura appeared, her hair still perfectly clipped in a professional up-do and her dress barely wrinkled, Jane's heart leapt. A smile forced its way onto her face and she waited in anticipation for Maura to join her. At the bottom step, Maura's eyes landed on Jane's and she tilted her head to the side, her lips curling in the most natural smile.
"Hey there," Jane said, handing over the cup of coffee she'd picked up from the cart in the parking lot a few moments earlier.
"Thank you," Maura said, sipping it gratefully. They stood in silence beside Jane's car for a moment. "Where are we going?"
"You're a woman after my heart," Jane said, motioning to the other side of her car.
"I need to get something from my car," Maura said. Jane nodded and followed her across the parking lot.
As they approached, a man in a hooded sweater wandered away, cautiously glancing over his shoulder. Jane gave him the once over. He could have attempted to break into Maura's car but Jane doubted he'd get very far. Though he was walking away calmer than Jane would have expected if he'd merely been trying his luck. Therefore, something else had to have occurred.
"Something's not right," Jane said, stepping around the vehicle. Her eyes trailed top to bottom. Something really, really wasn't right. She walked to the trunk. Maura reached out to open it.
"I'll just get my," Maura began, but Jane's eye landed on the wire looped down from the lock.
"No!" Jane shouted, wrapping both arms around Maura's waist and pulling her backwards. In the same moment, the trunk opened and they were forced away, the blast shrouding the vehicle in flames as Jane fell onto her back with Maura landing on top of her.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Maura opened her eyes, though her vision didn't appear to be at twenty-twenty. The incessant dripping echoed through the room. A space that Maura could barely focus upon, but that felt large and overwhelming. A distinct smell of metal filled her nostrils and she surmised that she must be somewhere industrial, probably a warehouse. She rolled over onto her back and groaned.
Her memories were hazy. She had a vague recollection of walking through the parking garage at BPD. She couldn't quite remember if she made it to her car, or was she headed for the elevator?
The aching in her head grew substantially worse, like her brain was being squashed in a vice and she had no power to stop it from happening. She closed her eyes. In the darkness, her mind drifted away from the pain, and she felt herself drifting. A niggling feeling in the back of her mind attempted to keep her from sleeping, but she couldn't stop it, eventually every thought disappeared as she drifted back off to sleep.
x
Jane sat at her desk twiddling her thumbs. The wall on the opposite side of the room had become a welcomed friend, a distraction, when her brain could think of little else. Her mind would not focus, and focusing was all she wanted to do in that moment.
"It's been two days," she said, despite Korsak and Frankie knowing as much. Vocalising basic facts about Maura's disappearance did little to settle her worries, but she did it anyway. "Why don't we know anything? If this was a hostage situation, surely they'd have been in contact by now? So, what, we're supposed to accept that she's just run away?"
"Stranger things have happened," Frankie said.
If Jane had been any closer, she'd have kicked him. "Maura did not run away. Her car may be missing, but all of her belongings are still in the house."
"People leave their lives – and everything in it – for lots of reasons," Korsak said, but Jane refused to believe it.
"Maura did not leave."
"I've got something," Nina said, from the doorway to the BRIC.
Jane jumped up from her seat and rushed into the room. The CCTV footage began streaming when Nina stepped back behind her station. When Maura walked across screen, Jane's heart leapt. As she disappeared off camera, Jane frowned.
"What are we seeing?"
Nina moved the cursor of the mouse across screen. "You hear Maura start her car there. See this car here, it goes a few seconds later."
"Can you run the plates?" Jane asked, stepping towards the screen.
Nina scanned the plate through the system. "A '98 Cadillac DeVille registered to Franklin Jones, 2948 Smith Street."
Before anyone could respond, Jane slipped out of the BRIC, snatched her jacket from the back of her chair, and rushed out of the building. She pulled up outside the house a short while later.
"Mr Jones," she said, marching up to the man as he mowed his lawn. He turned off the machine and nodded. She held up her badge. "I have a few questions, about your car."
"What about it?"
"We have reason to believe it was used in an abduction."
"Impossible," he said, his arms dropping to his sides. "I just got it back last night."
"From where?"
"The shop. It had a broken taillight after my son ran it into a post."
Jane sighed. "When did you take it to the shop?"
"Three days ago."
"It takes two days to fix a taillight?" she asked.
He shrugged. "They said it'd take a couple of hours, but they were busy."
Jane folded her arms across her chest. She could see the honesty in the man's eyes. "Which shop?"
"O'Neal's on Broadway."
She ran back to her car, stopping only to thank the man for his cooperation, before she sped back off down the street towards the body shop. When she pulled up outside, the shutters were down. She walked around the building, trying every door.
"Can I help you?"
"I need to speak to the owner."
"You got him."
"Do you know a Maura Isles?"
"The name rings a bell, but I got a lot of customers."
"Do you happen to know why a '98 Cadillac DeVille that was meant to be in your shop was caught on CCTV at Boston Police Department two days ago?"
"No."
"Really? Because Maura Isles is missing and I believe you may be the person I need to speak to about that."
As if on cue, the man turned tail and ran down the side of the building. Jane ran across the lot, hot on his tail as he scurried up the edge of a fence. The height of the fence slowed him down and Jane wrapped a hand around the back of his coveralls and dragged him back down.
"I don't think so," she said, pushing him against the fence and cuffing his wrists behind his back. "You either tell me where I can find Maura, or you're going back to the precinct so we can have a little chat."
x
He sat in the interview room, staring at his hands. Jane stood on the other side of the mirror, watching his every move.
"Nina found a couple of other properties owned by John O'Neal," Korsak said, handing over the file. "He's got a second shop in Brighton, and owns a share in a parts manufacturing company down in South Boston. You'd better break him soon or we'll have to hand over the case."
She took the file and carried it into the interview room. The man glanced up, his eyes cautious. Jane banged her fist down on the table.
"You better start talking."
"I got nothing to say."
"Really?" Jane asked, slipping a photograph across the table. "Our tech guys have been looking at footage we have of a man that looks suspiciously like you driving a car that was in your possession at the time of the abduction."
"What abduction?"
"The abduction of Doctor Maura Isles," she said, sliding a photo of Maura across the table.
"I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't do nothing."
"Really?" Jane asked again, poking her finger at the first photograph. "This picture says otherwise. Are you working alone? No, you're too stupid to do this alone, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not."
"So you admit you abducted Doctor Isles?"
"I never said that."
Jane folded her arms across her chest. "Where is she?"
"I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your other shop out in Brighton?"
"No."
"How about at the parts company you part own?"
He glanced down, his eyes trailed across the desk before he focused on Jane's eyes. "No."
"Hesitation," Jane said. "You're lying."
"I looked you in the eye, didn't I?"
She smirked. "Liars do."
"What are you talking about?"
"Interviews over," she said. "You lose."
She picked up the photos and the file and walked out of the room. "She's at the warehouse."
"You sure?"
"As sure as I can be. Let's go."
The industrial unit for South Boston Parts was easy enough to find. Jane slipped out of the car, her gun already in her hands as she rushed towards the doors. Frankie and Korsak were hot on her heel as they skirted around the building towards the entrance. Putting full force behind it, Jane slammed her foot into the door, busting it wide open. The three of them scurried into the room, their guns out in front of them, as they made their way into the main room of the warehouse.
"Put the weapon down," Jane shouted at a man holding a wooden bar in his hand, standing over Maura's lifeless body.
He took one look at them, dropped the bar and fell to his knees, his hands up behind his head.
"I didn't wanna do it, my boss made me, he said we'd get loads of money for her."
"Shut up," Korsak said, taking out his handcuffs and slapping them across his wrists. "Save it for your statement."
Jane rushed to Maura's side. "Maura? Are you okay?"
"Hmm," Maura groaned.
"It's okay," Jane said, holding her carefully in her arms. "You're okay now. You're safe."
"Is it my kidney?" Maura asked, sitting up in the hospital bed.
"Your liver," Doctor Giese said. "You will need a transplant."
"Oh." Maura forged a smile. It was embarrassing enough being admitted to hospital with a suspected case of fatigue only to be diagnosed with a more serious issue. "Well, I guess that's better than my one remaining kidney failing."
Jane squeezed her hand. "But you only have one liver, Maura. Right? One liver, two kidneys."
"Yes, Jane," she said. Trying her best to maintain a happy façade. "But, liver transplants don't require someone losing theirs. Just part of it."
"I'll call Hope and Cailin."
"Why?"
"Surely a blood relative will be your best chance," Jane said.
"Probably." Maura sighed. "I can't ask that of them, though. We've barely spoken in months. They're back in England. I can't ask them to come over here to give me part of their liver."
"They owe you," Jane said.
"I'll leave you to discuss," Doctor Giese said, slipping out of the room.
"I didn't donate my kidney to Cailin so that they'd owe me," Maura said, feeling irritation creep up on her. She was so tired. There were too many questions running through her mind, and with the physical impact her liver's failure was having on her body, she didn't think she had the energy to discuss it. "Besides, I don't think it's a good idea for Cailin to put her kidney under any stress."
"So we'll only ask Hope."
"I said no, Jane," she snapped, leaning back against the pillow.
"Then Paddy," Jane said. Maura groaned. "He's put you through more than enough shit. If anyone owes you a chance of life, it's him."
"He already gave me a chance," she said, unable to not argue her case against having Patrick Doyle donate part of his liver. "Or have you forgotten the situation surrounding my adoption?"
Jane took a deep breath. Her eyes glistened. Maura could hear a note of sadness in her voice. "Are you trying to die Maura because you're cutting down every hope you have."
"Of course I don't want to die," she said, tears lacing her tone. "If no other options are available to me then I may change my mind. But for now, I need to find another way."
"You're remarkably calm for someone who's just been told a vital organ has stopped working," Jane said.
"You're forgetting I'm a doctor, Jane." A doctor who had failed to self-diagnose a serious issue. Then again, she had been a lot of undue stress lately, and the fatigue had hit her hard. "I knew something was wrong before I collapsed. I assumed the issue would be related to my kidney."
"Then I'll get tested."
"Pardon?"
"You heard what I said, Maura."
"I did. I just didn't quite believe you were offering to go through major surgery, for me."
"Why not you?" Jane wrapped both hands around Maura's. "You're family, Maura. You're everything. I'm not going to watch you die if I can stop it from happening."
"Fine. You can get tested, but I will only accept part of your liver if no other options come up first."
"What's so wrong with accepting my liver?"
"You saw what happened with Hope and Cailin."
"I'm not going to leave you, Maura. I wouldn't do that," Jane said.
Maura knew she was right. She'd been there with her since before arriving at the hospital. She had a vague recollection of talking to Jane right before collapsing, and when she came to in the ambulance, she was right by her side. Regardless, she still worried that accepting some of her liver would drive a wedge between them.
"I hope so."
x
"Guess who's a match, Maura?" Jane asked, skipping into the room with a smile on her face, waving the results of her test about. She stopped the second she saw Maura, her skin tinged yellow and her eyes closed. She stepped forwards, and rested a hand on her cheek. "Maura?"
Maura's head lolled to the opposite side, her eyes remaining closed. Jane lifted her hand, but it just flopped back down onto the bed like a deadweight.
"Help!" Jane shouted, tapping Maura's cheek. She pressed down on the emergency button by the bed and took a step back as a couple of nurses, and a doctor filled the room.
In the drama, a pair of arms pushed Jane back out of the door and she paced the corridor, waiting, desperately hoping that someone would come out and tell her that everything was going to be okay. When the doctor appeared, his eyes sullen, Jane's heart sunk.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "She's not."
"She's not," Doctor Giese said. "But she doesn't have a lot of time."
"I," Jane whispered, still waving the test results about in her hand. "I'm a match. Take my liver. Do it now. Save her. Please."
"Are you sure? Getting tested and actually doing it are very different things, Ms Rizzoli."
"I want to. I can't let her die."
"Okay," he said, guiding her towards the nurse's station. "There's some paperwork to be filled out. You need to know what happens."
"I don't care," Jane shouted. "Put me to sleep and take my liver."
"Ms Rizzoli," said Doctor Giese. "I understand this is difficult for you.
"Damn right this is difficult for me," she said. "You need to take my liver."
"We are going to," he said, his tone calm. "I'm going to get Nurse Walbuck to prepare the paperwork and explain the procedure to you. That is non-negotiable. We have time to do this the legal and proper way. We're going to do everything we can to save her."
Jane nodded, her heart ached but she understood. She continued to pace the corridor as Doctor Giese disappeared, and only listened partially to the nurse as he explained the procedure. Jane called Frankie to let him know what was happening, in case something was to happen, and to bring her a bag. Seeing Maura before the procedure wasn't even something she considered, she just needed to make sure the process was not delayed any further.
"Ms Rizzoli, we're ready for you," Nurse Walbuck said, motioning towards the bed they'd prepared for her. She froze. She hated the idea of being cut open, being injected and infused with blood and medication. But she hated the idea of Maura drifting away. It had all happened too quickly and she didn't really have time to think, maybe that was for the best. "Ms Rizzoli?"
"Yeah," she said, stepping forwards. "Let's do this. Let's save her."
"You shouldn't be here, Maura."
Jane closed the car door and pulled out her service weapon. She checked it was fully loaded and replaced it in her holster. Maura ambled towards her.
"You're here to speak to my biological father," Maura said. "I should."
"I know you don't want to admit it sometimes, but he's a dangerous man."
"I know who he is, Jane."
"I don't want you to get hurt," she said, putting her phone on silent and glancing across the industrial yard at the warehouse she was headed into. The last thing she needed was to have to look out for Maura, too.
"I'll be fine."
Jane scoffed. "Until you're a trained cop and can handle a gun, Maura, I'm gonna doubt that's true. Please. Just stay in the car."
"If it's as dangerous as you're trying to make me believe," Maura said, staring Jane down. "You shouldn't be here without back up."
"It wouldn't be the first time I've done this alone."
"Jane."
"Maura."
"I can handle myself at an arrest," Maura said, folding her arms across her chest.
Jane shook her head. "This isn't an arrest."
"What is it then?"
As if right on cue, Jane's attention was pulled to a man exiting the warehouse. A weapon in his hands he aimed it in Jane and Maura's direction. She swallowed and turned, hoping to find cover before anything could happen. But her eyes fell on a second man on the opposite side of the yard, holding up a pistol.
"An ambush," Jane whispered, resting a hand on her gun, waiting to pull it but not wanting to antagonise the situation whilst Maura was still in the firing line.
"A what?" Maura asked, following Jane's eyes in the direction of one of the men.
"An ambush, Maura, I thought I was going to get to speak to Doyle alone. He sent his heavies."
"Oh."
"Exactly," Jane said, pushing her roughly down between the cars. "This is why you shouldn't be here."
The second Jane disappeared behind a car, they were surrounded by the sound of bullets hitting the vehicle. Jane pulled her weapon and angled herself, before firing a round off in quick succession across the yard. When she slipped back down, she turned, her eyes fixed on Maura.
"You okay?" Maura nodded. "I want you to get back in your car and drive away. I'll cover you."
"No."
"Maura."
"I'm not leaving you, Jane."
"Then stay here."
"What are you going to do?" Maura asked, her brow furrowed and her eyes glistened with a layer of tears.
Jane reached out a hand and rested it on Maura's shoulder. "Please. I need you to be safe."
A second round of shots and Jane edged around the car, trying to get a better angle on the two men. When the shots dissipated, Jane dropped down again and waited. Silence overshadowed them, an absence of noise so much worse than the noise of gun shots themselves. She sensed the danger, and yet, didn't dare move in case she made the wrong choice.
The silence continued. Jane glanced up and over the hood of the car, consciously aware of where the men were before but not quite sure where they were now. When she caught sight of one of them, sitting on a wooden crate, fiddling with his gun, Jane's heart skipped a beat. Something wasn't right.
"Jane!" Maura shouted, just in time for her to turn around to face their attacker.
Wiping the smirk off his face would have been Jane's preferred choice of method, but he already had his hands on her shoulders and she struggled to fight him off. She turned against, twisting in his arms to try and get away. She caught sight of Maura, having moved away and behind the second car. Her relief was overpowered only by the hands still clutching her upper arms. She grunted loudly, lifted her leg and thrust it into the man's stomach, forcing him back onto the floor. Jane lifted her gun and aim it at him, but a pair of hands around her waist pulled her attention away. The second man. She stamped her foot down on his toes, and backed her elbow into his hip. The man retreated in pain. When the first man stalked towards her, his gun held high, Jane pulled on the trigger of her own weapon and aimed the shots at his chest. He went down and Jane knew he wouldn't be getting up again. His gun landed on the floor and slip down beneath the car.
"Stay down," Jane said, as Maura's eyes landed on the weapon.
"Jane, look out," she shouted again, her attention captured by the two by four in the other man's hands. But it was too late. Jane turned at the sound of Maura's voice, and the wood collided with the side of her head. Maura chewed on the inside of her lip to stop herself from wanting to rush to help Jane.
The man groaned, rubbing his ribs. Maura watched as his eyes landed on the gun resting under her car's front wheel. A gun which was almost within Maura's reach. She glanced up at him, analysing his reflexes, watching his every move. His eyes locked on hers and she knew she didn't have much time. Pushing herself up, she propelled forwards the few inches closer to the gun and scooped it up. Emulating Jane, she wrapped her hands around it and pointed it at the man running towards her. She pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. She ran a hand across it, searching for something that would make it work. Her finger hit the safety and she turned it off. The man snarled at her, his face contorted in anger. As he reached down to her, Maura gripped the trigger and fired three times.
The man stopped, the force of the bullets landing in his chest thrust him backwards, until he tumbled over onto the floor. Maura gasped, dropped the gun, and rushed to his side.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her hands down on the wound, stemming the profuse flow of blood.
"Wha' happened?" Jane asked, running a hand across the back of her head and wincing as her fingers touched her bleeding skull. She lifted herself up into a seat position and glanced at Maura.
"Call for backup," Maura shouted, her fingers caked in warm, red liquid.
Jane shook her head and crawled forwards, blood spilled from the man's mouth. "He's gone, Maur."
"No," she said, her eyes filled with tears, a lump settled in her throat. "I, I killed him."
"Yeah," Jane said, reaching out and grasping her wrist, pulling her tightly into her arms. "Yeah, you did."
Note: I hope you like my five times story. It would be great to know what you think.