Stories.
They say we're all stories in the end. And maybe we are. Maybe we're nothing more than the stories we leave behind us when we die. Jane Rizzoli had plenty of stories to tell; of violence and horror and pain. But there was one story that was different, one story of love and devotion. The one she hoped she would be remembered for. Maybe it is that one story that we should begin with, if only that were possible but another story has to come first.
It had begun many years before, in what Jane now calls the dark times. The times where the light refused to illuminate the depths of the life she had fallen into. Once upon a time Jane had had such dreams for herself, for her life and then she met Casey Jones. When she had met him in that bar on that night, she had been celebrating. She had just been accepted into the Police Academy and she was buzzing; her dreams of becoming a detective were beginning to seem less like a dream. She could do it! The first hurdle had been jumped; all she needed to do now was prove herself worthy.
So in that bar, on that night, as pleasure and pride coursed through her veins, the tall, stocky blonde had approached her. He said he knew her, that they had gone to the same school and maybe they had. Jane could not remember but she accepted the drink he offered her anyway. She was tall, willowy, with an ethereal beauty that captured the attention of many, many men and for her to be offered and to accept a drink was not unusual. The naivety of youth oblivious to the dangers that simple act presented. If it were to happen today, then maybe, just maybe, she would refuse. Refuse and walk away. But on that night, she accepted and it became the first of many drinks Casey Jones would buy her. Midnight came and Jane's friends wanted to leave, Jane resisted. This man was so charming, so enigmatic; she wanted to stay and drink with him some more. But he insisted she go. He could have told them that he would take care of her, he would get her home safely but he didn't and for that alone, Jane began to trust him. And that was her second mistake, she knew that, now.
Days and weeks passed and Casey Jones became a constant in Jane's life and still he was kind, thoughtful but he had certain tastes that Jane, did not understand; tastes that she too would soon develop. And that was her third mistake. Before she knew it, her start date for the academy had come and gone, swept away in the mist and Jane didn't notice. The days had blurred into one, with nothing mattering other than the dope induced euphoria and Casey's gentle touch. And then everything changed, Casey changed. That she was beside him, loving him was not enough. He wanted to share. To share her! And she let him.
Anaesthetised with drink and drugs, she would do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted while he watched. He liked to watch. Afterwards, he would be contrite, repentant, full of promises that she would never have to do it again. He was hers, he loved her, would never hurt her. And she believed him, every time she believed him, his remorseful tears breaking down any resistance she had. Until the drugs ran out and he needed her to do it again. If she truly loved him she would do it. It wasn't so bad after all. It was only what she willing did to him, with him and he would be there, watching, protecting. Soon his protection stopped and she spent every night walking the streets alone to provide them with what they both needed to survive.
And then she met Her. For the normal people it was early, for her it was night. Soon she would be home and he would allow her her fix and she would float into heavenly oblivion until it was time to go out again. But she craved some kind of normalcy in her life. She could be like the normal people, on their way to work, stopping for coffee along the way. Stepping into the coffee shop she was pleased to see an older man behind the counter, certain she could charm him into giving her a drink; she dare not spend any of the money she had earned. That belonged to Casey, as she did. But the old man was not kind, would not be charmed and she began to get angry. It was just one lousy cup of coffee damn it, but he would not budge. She could hear the normal people behind her muttering and she looked around viciously. And she was there, smiling. Not like the others, looking at her with distain, afraid her presence would taint them somehow and Jane panicked. No one was nice to her, not really, not without expecting something in return.
The woman's image would not leave her. In her stupor She came to her, an angel of light shining through the dark, reaching out to her and so she found herself drawn to the coffee shop. Watching, waiting, hoping for a glimpse of Her. Days passed without success and Jane became anxious, maybe that one meeting was luck, was her only chance and she had blown it in her fear and self-loathing. But still she tried. Every day she waited, waited until her trembling, nauseous body demanded to be fed and she returned home, to him. And then she found Her. It was strange, as if fate had determined their worlds should come together and collide.
She was stood under a lamppost when it happened. A scream from the darkness and she ran towards the sound. She was too late, the lifeless body lay prostrate, shimmering black pooling around its head, her head. Jane stepped backwards cautiously looking around. No one had seen her here, she should leave. Every instinct in her body told her to run and never look back but her feet would not comply; inertia held her fast. In a daze, time passed her by, until silence and death became sound and life. People surrounded her, questioning her, moving her. And She was there; spotlights making her blonde curls shine as she knelt beside the body. Jane didn't understand. She was soft, kind. Why was she touching death?
Silent Jane watched Her. She stood and a man; young, black, spoke to her, the words dissolving before they met her ears. There was nothing else but Her and Jane needed to go to her. The man held her back. Made her sit. Experience and fear made her unconsciously comply and he left her. Wordlessly she called out to Her, urged Her to come. It worked. The man brought Her to her and She smiled. The same gentle smile she had seen once before. She spoke and Jane heard her voice, melodic and calming; felt Her soft touch upon her arm. Jane opened her mouth to speak. To tell Her she'd been searching for her. That she regretted the harsh words she had spoken before. Nothing came out.
Bright light shone in her eyes and for a second Jane wondered where she was. She hastily looked all round, a rabbit caught in the headlights, to find herself in a room, alone. A white, sterile hospital room and she sunk back into the bed relieved. Here she was safe. The door opened with a creak and Jane bolted upright once more. And She entered. A warmth she had forgotten existed penetrated Jane and she smiled. She had made many mistakes, far more than she could ever count but something was telling her to reach out, to trust one more time. That this time her trust would be rewarded. And so she spoke two small simple words... "Help Me".
With those simple, whispered words the world Jane knew irrevocably changed. She transformed darkness, terror and pain into light, security and tenderness. She stayed with Jane throughout the night and following days, talking to her, caring for her, stroking her hair as withdrawal wracked her weakened body, giving her medication to ease her nausea and pain. Eventually, Jane began to feel something else, a more primal need calling to her: hunger. This too She took care of, bringing her soup and later fruit which Jane devoured with gusto before sleep claimed her once more.
Jane woke; her head finally clear, to find Her asleep in a chair beside her, a look of serenity etched upon her face. She did not know how long either of them had been here but she knew She had not left her. She had stayed! Her angel of light. As Jane gazed down upon her, her eyelids began to flutter and She awoke. For the first time Jane consciously looked into deep hazel eyes; eyes that shone with blues and greens and golds and she realised she didn't know her angel's name.
"Maura. My name is Maura" She answered the unasked question with a shy smile.