Rizzoli and Isles sadly isn't mine. This story hit me hard and I had to write it. Let me to if there is interest and I will continue. As always if there is anything you want to see, hit me up. I apologize for typos in advance. I also know there are parts of this story that are far fetched. I'm also no expert on prison, so please forgive me guys!

Jane Rizzoli had been here for six years. As she sat on the side of the sunken in shit hole of a bed, she wondered how time had seemed to fly by, yet slow all at the same time. The bars on the windows reminded her every second of every day how quickly everything could change.

She had been a been given her gold badge six months before the incident that altered the course of her life. Growing up, Jane had no idea her father was head of the Italian Mob. Frankie Senior was a true gangster and a real asshole. Until Jane was fourteen, she thought the family business was a pizza restaurant in Southie. She chuckled sourly at the memory.

Her father had serious connections all over the city, and it was only fitting that he never went in on domestic abuse chargers. Jane always got the worst of it. She was the oldest, and born with a fierce protectiveness that seemed to have been instilled in her during birth. She'd do her best to protect Frankie Junior and Tommy no matter the consequence. Her scars proved to be horrific, but Jane didn't care. As soon as she was eighteen, she joined the police academy. Sure, her name was tarnished, but that didn't stop her from working her ass off and burning the soles off quite a few pairs of boots. Soon enough, the brunette's father had officially divorced her Ma. Things looked up for a short while.

It had been Halloween 2008. Jane had gotten a call from her father. She hadn't talked to him in ten years, but he reeled her in like he always had. Tommy was threatening to kill himself. Of course, Jane rushed over to the docks. In her head, she still heard the click of her boots as they walked down the pavement between the cargo containers. Frankie Senior stood there threatening as always. He ordered Jane to quit her job. An argument had started, it turned physical as it always had, but Jane wasn't the little girl she used to be. She shot him. Killed him dead on the spot. The problem... the Rizzoli operation wasn't mom and pop. A lot of important bastards had paychecks from Frank. Big paychecks. Without their supply of mad money, Jane was punished like she'd cut the heads off a hundred people and ate them on camera.

Capital punishment.

She was the only woman on death row in Massachusetts. A former officer of the law to boot. Jane rotted away on the third floor in solitary for the remainder of her days. She couldn't be protected properly at the women's prison, and seeing as how the men's was the only one with a floor open, she resided in the third floor alone. A guard would come to check on her every eight hours. She got food sometimes. Every now and then a card would come through from her Ma, her brothers or Korsak. Jane Rizzoli was alone and waiting to die.

JR+MI

"Your appeal was denied. I'm sorry Jane," her public defender replied in a meeting.

Jane ran long slender fingers through her unruly curls before setting her cuffed wrists back into her lap. This was it. "I was expecting that," she whispered gruffly. The brunette hadn't used her voice in two days.

"I did the best I could to uncover the money trail—"

"Yeah, if it was easy we could've found it six years ago," Jane cut him off before standing and nodding at the guard.

"Jane, where are you going? We can file another motion! We'll think of something!" He stood to protest.

"I'm gonna die in sixty days. I don't wanna spend my time with you," she spat before the corrections officer escorted her out of the visiting area and back through the mazes of hallways she was forced to take due to her protection policy.

Once she was back in her cell, Jane stood on her bed and looked out the six inch window. To see the sun was a pleasure. Dark chocolate eyes had lost their once lustrous shine. They gave way to dark circles and hollowed cheekbones that once smiled dimpled grins that led to husky laughter. Jane didn't even have the energy to cry over her lost life. Disappointment had ruled her for many years and as it turned out, she finally felt completely deflated. Her father had truly won. She sighed as she stepped down, kicked off her dingy shoes, and laid in her bed waiting on nightfall. It looked like she had long been forgotten for dinner.

The sun peeked through the tiny window to tickle Jane's face. A low groan escaped her as she stretched on the cot. Another day had arrived and Jane was thankful she was still around. No matter how depressed the prison was, she hadn't come to terms with dying. She pushed the thought as far away from her mind as she could before sitting down at the makeshift desk she had created. Fingers toyed with the number two pencil before she checked over her shoulder to make sure the breakfast tray wasn't on it's way. Once Jane figured out she would more than likely not eat until lunch, she began to draw.

The first thing that came to her mind was her old badge. She remembered exactly what it felt like in her hand. Smooth strokes made the outline as Jane paced herself to really take the shading to an expert level. "Victor 825," she whispered as she sketched the letters and numbers just as they were on the badge she once wore.

A loud clank of the bars snapped her out of the concentration, and she quickly flipped the page over as she turned around.

"Rizzoli! Get the fuck over here! You know the goddamn drill!" The CO was agitated as always.

Jane stuck her wrists through the slot on the bars to be cuffed. "I'm not expecting anyone," she said almost to herself.

"No ones expectin' you either. We gotta make sure you're fit to die." He opened the cell door.

"You don't know if I have any mail do you?" Jane asked as she walked beside the shorter blonde guard.

"Now how the hell would I know that? Ask the guys on their rounds."

Jane sighed. Apparently ex-cops didn't get mail according to the prison rules. She didn't reply as hoots and hollers from all over the rec room could be heard. A few years ago, Jane would've yelled and barked back. Now, it was too much trouble. It wasted too much energy she didn't have.

"Why can't I just stay in my cell? You know Doctor Richards isn't even gonna look me over. He's just gonna say I'm fine."

"You didn't hear?" He asked with a crooked grin. "That old bastard quit. We've got a brand new doctor! Finally, a woman to look at with some tits!" CO Jenkins continued walking Jane through crowded hallways to the infirmary, "No offense Rizzoli," he added in a surprisingly soft tone.

"None taken," Jane replied before he walked over to triage to sign inmate number R4347 in for the physical.

"I hear she was in your line of work," he added to the conversation as he sat down and tapped the plastic chair beside him. "Used to be some head honcho medical examiner."

Jane furrowed her brows as she listened and asked, "I worked with a few."

"She went to work at BPD a few years ago. I don't have a fuckin' clue how she ended up here." He placed his hands over his pot belly as they waited.

"When I was there we had this real asshole. His name was Doctor Pike. He was always screwing up the evidence. I bet he got fired." Jane wondered why Korsak hadn't told her about the change of ME's in his last letter. Then again, Jane usually didn't receive her mail.

"Dr. Isles. Martha or Maura. Somethin' like that. Ring any bells?"

"No, never heard of her. I wonder why she'd come here to work at this shithole." Jane replied in jest and Jenkins even laughed. While she waited, Jane caught herself doing something she hadn't in months. She was smiling.