I don't own anything. Characters belong to TNT, Tess Gerritson and Janet Tamaro.

…..

The Detective arrived in a meat wagon. Dutifully she opened the Detective's door, she leant over her. The Detective's cold, unyielding, judgemental eyes met hers. Her deceptively strong hands grabbed the Detective firmly and pulled her out of the vehicle. Pushing her as briskly and unnoticed down the car strewn garage as possible, she leant down to the detective's monochrome face as she pushed her through the door and with her huffing rushed voice said.

"You shouldn't have parked so far away darling, it would have been so much easier on us both." She washed her hands and turned around, her tools sat on a tray nearby. She ran her hand across them with a gentle caress, like welcoming home a long lost lover. A dark smirk played upon her silky smooth face as she ran her fingers through the Detective's onyx woollen curls and touched her perfectly placed gold badge before getting to work. Hours that seemed like years later, she turned away from the Detective, tired and uncaring. She cleaned up her tools, removed her mask, splattered apron and gloves as the Detective lay before her a motionless empty shell. She walked through the doors leaving her alone in the cold, dark and silent cacophony of the room. Through the silent halls that echoed death, a lonely muffled voice could be heard.

"Susie." It said "Detective Rizzoli's body is ready to be released."

"Yes Doctor Isles."

She entered her warm and welcoming office. A stark contrast to the overly bright and unyielding stainless steel room she just came from. A hefty, middle aged man was sitting on the couch she had placed near the doorway. A coffee cup sitting on the aptly named table. Although full, no steam rose from its contents. His wrinkled hands scratching at days old stubble that had created a speckled home upon his trembling chin. His red eyes look up to meet hers. Her eyes travel down his tear stained cheeks, stopping at his dry cracked lips.

"Doc?" His voice croaks.

"Although the scalpels in her hands and cut to her neck caused significant blood loss, it was the bullet that took her life."

The old man wrapped his hands around himself and began to shake. "Oh God," he cried. "Oh God, no. Doc. No. No .No. Why did she have to jump up to tackle him?! Doc. Why?!" he looked up her. Tears flowing down his face. The look in his eyes, hopeful that she could give him the answers he sought. The redemption and forgiveness he needed.

"I'm sorry Detective Korask. Although I didn't get the chance to meet Detective Rizzoli."

"Jane." He whispers.

"I'm sorry?"

"Her name is… was… Jane, Doc"

"Jane. Although I didn't know Jane personally. From what I have heard she wasn't the type to just give in. She was a fighter, Detective."

"If only she had been stuck to the ground. If she had've just waited just one sec Doc. Then she would be here, telling me to grow some balls and pick myself up or something. If only… then I wouldn't have killed her. Doc…?"

"I'm sorry for your loss Detective. This is my first day. I'm not good at consoling people or with people in general. I'm afraid I don't know what is appropriate to tell you right now."

"Tell me she would forgive me, Doc"

Her head tilted as she looked at this man. His hair was a mess, his eyes fading. Wrinkles and scars interwoven amongst the liver spots and grey hairs. His tie loosened and to the side. His buttons undone. His pants long since ironed. It wasn't just from shooting his partner. It was from days of searching for Jane. When he finally found her, Jane had tackled the man who had held her captive and tortured her. Unluckily and ironically, at the same time, Detective Korsak had fired his gun to save her life, but ended it instead. She slowly sat down beside Detective Korsak as she recalled receiving the phone call that brought him before her now. She had arrived at the abandoned house and entered the basement. It wasn't the blood or the two deceased bodies that disorientated her. It wasn't even the officers, detectives and crime scene techs demeanour that rattled her. The loss of one of their own was always hard to witness. No, it was the howl of dismay and uncontrolled sobbing that erupted from the man now before her. It was the way he cradled Jane's head to his chest, the way he begged her to come back. It was the way it took three officers and two detectives to pull him away from her lifeless body so she could examine her.

She made a choice, perhaps the wrong choice she thought. But a choice based on all that she had heard and read about Detective Rizzoli and of the cues Detective Korsak was giving her. She wrapped her arm around him as he gripped the other, pulling him close and rocking him back and forth she whispered. "She forgave you the moment it happen Detective Korsak. She forgave you."