And some more musings and ramblings about the Rizzoli family drama & Jane's recovery. Thanks for reading. I don't own any of these characters or season 2 would have a lot more angst.
The house was quiet, save the distant roar of driving rain when the doorbell rang. Maura slipped her iPad from her lap and padded toward the entrance, checking through the peephole before she slid the chain loose and opened the door. "Frankie, hey," she greeted with a warm smile, ushering him inside quickly. "Come in, it's wet out there."
"No kidding," Jane's brother agreed, ducking inside and slipping from his jacket. "You got somewhere I can put this? I made a fast dash from the car."
"Of course." Maura slipped a hanger from the coat closet and slid the jacket on before hanging it at the entrance to her laundry room. As she returned to the living room, she couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of Frankie shifting from one foot to another as he eyed the various pieces of furniture. It was much like Jane had looked when they had visited the Fairfield home the year before—uncertain, curious, and hesitant to touch anything. "Frankie, have a seat, make yourself at home," she urged. "Can I get you anything? Something to drink?"
He shrugged. "Nah, I came to see Janie. Is she around?"
Maura gestured down the hall. "She was sleeping last time I checked. It's just down the hallway …" She hesitated a moment before adding, "It was a rough morning for her. All this rain is causing a barometric shift, and that is causing—" She stopped herself as Frankie's brow furrowed in confusion, clearly struggling to follow her conversation. "Her pain levels were up this morning, so she took one of her strong pain meds. It always makes her really sleepy and groggy."
"Jane?"she had murmured quietly, one hand carefully stroking her friend's back as Jane cried in her sleep. A crash of thunder made her jump a little, and she scooted closer to the other side of the guest bed, rubbing a little more firmly against Jane's back. "Jane?"
Her friend woke with a soft groan, and Maura could hear the quiet sniffles. "'Time's it?"
"Four thirty seven AM," Maura replied, reaching for the bedside table and grimacing at the soft glow of the lamp as she turned it on. "You were … crying." She could feel the tension in Jane's shoulders.
Jane nodded in agreement, though the streaks on her face were only further evidence that, yes, she had been crying. "Hurts … a lot," she answered, jaw tight as she flexed her hands.
"Your hands or—"
"Hands, ribs that were grazed, the toe I broke when I was eleven playing street hockey…"
"It's the weather," Maura sighed. She disentangled herself from bedding and slipped into the guest bathroom for a few moments before returning with a cup of water and a pill. Without a word, she handed the over. The fact that Jane took it without a single complaint was a testament to just how bad the pain was today.
When Jane handed back the empty cup, Maura set it on the bedside table, turned off the light again and settled back into bed, pulling the covers up around both of them. "Don't fight sleep," she requested.
The room fell quiet, save for the steady rain falling outside. Maura was almost certain that Jane was sleep again when she heard her best friend whisper, "I'm scared … that I'm going to get hooked on those."
She reached out and gave the detective's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "They're to help you with the breakthrough pain. You don't take them often enough to get hooked on them."
"Still scares me," Jane slurred, the drugs clearly starting to kick in.
"I'm worried about her," Frankie muttered, more to himself than to Maura. He took her up on the suggestion to check on his sister. The house fell quiet again, and she stretched a little before taking up her iPad again. The notes she was making held her attention for a while, and she almost didn't hear when Frankie returned.
Only the soft scuff of his shoe against the carpet caught her attention, and she set down her tablet beside her. "The rain's getting to you, too," she observed casually. "Didn't you have a pain prescription, too?"
He shook his head. "Nope, I'm down to over-the-counter now."
The redhead frowned. "Frankie, you had cracked bones. If you—"
"No, I'm okay. It's not that bad, honest, doc."
She motioned for him to take a seat, mouth pressing into a wry smile. "Is this a cop thing or a Rizzoli thing?"
Frankie shrugged. "Jane turned down her drugs, too?"
"She tries to. Byron gave her a lecture about that last time he saw her. Her body has to rest if it's going to recover, and it can't do that when she doesn't follow her medicine regiment. It's stressing her body to deal with too much pain."
He gave a rueful laugh. "I bet that went over big with my sister. She hates that doc."
There was no reply for Maura to make, save nodding. She had spoken to Byron just this morning, not long after she'd awakened around nine thirty to more rain and dog that simultaneously needed to go outside and was terrified to set a paw beyond the door.
Byron had wanted her to meet him for lunch, and no doubt, for bed as well. When she turned him down, mentioning Jane was over for the weekend, he had suggested that he offer the detective a narcotic. She hadn't appreciated the comment had has frostily skirted his request for dinner later in the week with a vague, "I really can't say right now—it's a busy week." She could think of dozens of things she needed to do—a good yoga class or two, a run to the dry cleaners, touching base with her interior decorator, contacting Habitat for Humanity to donate the couch she was soon replacing, and taking Jo Friday to the groomers…
"Maura?" Frankie asked, sinking down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Hhm?" It finally registered that her phone was ringing. "Sorry, excuse me a moment—oh… it's… okay," she shook her head slightly as if to clear her thoughts and accepted the call. "Good morning, Angela."
The plan for the weekend had been for Jane to rest and take a break from her family, but it seemed Angela couldn't resist checking in. In the elder Rizzoli's defense, she had stayed out of the loop for a solid day now. While she had sent Jane a quick message that didn't necessarily require a reply, it was clear to Maura that Angela expected her friend to reply. And Jane hadn't. Thus, concern.
It was a fine line. If she gave too much information to Angela, Angela would be worried about Jane being in pain and would drop by to see for herself. If she was too vague, Angela would drop by for her own peace of mind. She settled on resting, catching up on a lot of sleep and breathed a soft sigh of relief when the call ended.
"Ma?"
The redhead nodded. "She's still worried. I think Jane's finally in the clear now. If she'd just get some rest, she could made a faster recovery, but she fights it. And she fights her vitamins, let alone her medicine.
Frankie toyed with his own cellphone, probably a little surprised his mother hadn't tracked him down, too. "It's not that she doesn't want to get better. Janie's never been one of those people that sits still and everything. And the medicine …We've watched a lot of good cops go down because of drugs. Some get high from selling it, some just get high. It gets ugly fast. God, look what it did to Marino. I don't blame her for wanting to stay away from drugs altogether—prescribed or not." He tapped idly at the arm of the couch, as if to make his point. "I worry about her. I think we all do, but, you know, Janie, she's tough. I keep waiting for the part where she bounces back. Like old times."
"She is tough," Maura agreed, not wanting to tackle the discussion regarding the long recover process for bullet wounds.
Frankie nodded to her iPad. "Sorry I interrupted your weekend. I can come back later, or have Jane call me when she's awake? I was gonna try to cheer her up, ya know? I would have brought some pizza or something, but Ma warned me she's only eating soft stuff and mostly liquid. Anyway, you have plenty to do."
"No," Maura protested, waving one hand as if to dismiss the idea. "Stay. She'll want to see you. I was looking over notes the lab sent to me about a cold case I've been working. I needed a break anyway. Can't I get you something to drink?"
He flashed a small smile. "Kinda early to start offering drinks, isn't it?"
She couldn't help but return his smile, "Well there's always prune juice…"
Frankie's nose wrinkled. "Is that what they have her drinking?" he asked, head nodding in the general direction of the guest room.
"Mhmm," Maura replied, pushing to her feet and going to find a bottle of water. She offered it without comment.
He twisted off the cap and took a long drink. "She's lucky to have a good friend like you, Maura. I haven't really said it, but thanks, ya know? Not just for me, I mean, saving my life and everything. You saved her, too. She's the only big sister I got."
'I know," Maura replied gently. "I know you'd do anything for her—just the same as she did for you. It's our turn to look after her for a little bit. Even if she hates it."
Dark eyes fell on her cellphone. "Does Jane know … you know, about Ma and Pop?"
Maura's lips pressed into a thin line, and she felt tired suddenly. She let her head fall back against the cushions. "Not … exactly. She heard the two of them arguing the other night—that's when we planned for her to come visit for a long weekend. She knows it's worse than before, but she doesn't know…"
"That they're heading for Splits-ville," Frankie concluded bluntly.
The medical examiner gestured futilely. "The inevitability of it." She slipped from the couch and stalked to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, offering Frankie that or a beer. He declined both, and she settled back onto the couch after taking several long sips.
"You think it was inevitable?" he finally asked.
She shrugged. "I'm not a psychologist. I don't have background in relationship counseling. But I know that ninety percent of couples who lose a child eventually divorce. Divorce rates are nearly as high for couples who have a child who is seriously injured and requires long-term care." Her gaze lifted, a little surprised that Frankie didn't interrupt her and try to argue on behalf of his parents. "Jane's, obviously, not a child."
"Nope, but she's still their kid," Frankie mused, drinking down another long gulp of water from his bottle. "And they're pretty messed up. They can't agree on anything—where Janie should be, if I'm pushing too hard to go back to work, what they think Tommy should do when he gets out … if he gets out."
Maura offered a sympathetic look. "You know it's not really about any of you."
"Yeah," Frankie sighed. "I know. But Janie's gonna blame herself. Don't tell her, okay? Not yet."
The red head bobbed. "She doesn't need to deal with that, yet. It'll come out, later, when she's ready. She's going to try to fix it, you know."
"I know," Frankie agreed. "But let's make sure we get her fixed up first."
Reviews are wonderful, and we all need a little more wonderfulness in our lives. We'll see what the muse inspires by way of future chapters.
