A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews. Much appreciated! And I'm glad you're somewhat thinking about what you'd do in such scenarios… That's the whole point of this story. :-) And in case you ever run out of fanfics to read (unlikely, I know), that book mentioned in the previous chapter ("Would You Kill the Fat Man?") actually exists...
Now, I wonder if we can get to 100 followers… Can we? Can we?


Chapter 9

April 5, 2014

"I told you I would always save you, Maura." Jane is still crouched against the metal bars, fighting the inevitable.

"Yes, in some hypothetical scenario," Maura admits. "But this is real, Jane. And we're running out of time. We have to face it."

"Maybe there is no bomb this time," the brunette suggests unconvincingly. "I mean, there's security in Fenway. Maybe he's bluffing."

The blonde bites her lip, wishing that she could just deny the harsh truth. But she can't. "He hasn't been bluffing before…"

And slowly but surely, Jane can't deny it anymore either. With just five minutes remaining on the timer, a decision will have to be made. She drags herself up, turns her back to Maura, runs her hands through her hair again. This isn't how it's supposed to end. This isn't right.

"Please, talk to me," Maura begs, anxiously glancing at the timer. "I can't do this alone."

The detective hesitates, crosses her arms. She doesn't want to do this. No one can expect her to do this. She finally turns around and looks at the blonde in the cell. "You're asking too much, Maura."

Maura holds her gaze. It's the only thing that she has left to cling on to. "I'm only asking because I know you're strong enough to do this."

Jane shakes her head. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You are the strongest person I know, Jane." The thought helps the doctor find the strength she needs herself now. "And somewhere deep inside, you know that you have to do this."

"It's not fair," the detective whispers.

"No, it's not." Maura's eyes fall on the timer again. Four minutes. Four minutes to save all these lives but her own. Four minutes with Jane. "But we can't let him trigger this bomb. This isn't just a factory or a restaurant or a mall."

Jane clutches the bars again, getting as close to the blonde as she can.

"It's Fenway Park, Jane," Maura continues, her voice trembling. "It's… it's the heart of the city. It's about traditions and… and family and everything this city stands for. It's about believing in something, even if it takes 86 years to come true."

"A few days ago, you didn't even know about the Curse of the Bambino," the brunette objects weakly.

"No, but I looked it up when you mentioned it," Maura admits. And the memory of their evening together on Red Sox Opening Day confirms her decision. This is as far as their relationship is destined to go. She can't risk innocent lives in hopes for a commitment from Jane that will never come. "And I don't need to know every detail about the curse to understand how much this ballpark means to people. I just need to listen to you. You said it's the one place in the city where nothing else matters… Where you can forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

Jane's eyes fill with tears. She remembers these words and she remembers the day when she used them to explain the magic of baseball to Maura.

"Now think about what a bomb in that ballpark would do to the city, what it would do to you." And suddenly, Maura's doubt is gone. She knows she's doing the right thing. "Nothing would ever be the same, Jane. It would break people's hearts. People love Fenway Park… You love Fenway Park."

Jane swallows hard. "Yeah… but I love you more."

April 4 - One Day Earlier

As the late morning sun of that first Friday of April dipped the medical examiner's great room into a golden glow, Jane was lying prone on Maura's couch, one arm and one leg dangling over the edge and her face buried into the cushions until her instincts finally awoke and urged her body to do the same. Drowsily, she reached for her cell phone on the table, blinked at the time on its display, and raised her head in confusion.

"Maura?"

When there was no answer, she rolled off the couch, ruffled her hair and let out a yawn, and trudged towards the stairs. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she dragged herself upstairs and softly knocked on the doctor's half-open bedroom door. Still waiting in vain for an answer, she peeked inside and frowned at the sight of the unused bed.

"Maura?"

And finally, there was an answer in the form of a tired "Uh huh…" coming from the adjacent bathroom.

Hesitant at first, Jane entered the bedroom and padded towards the open bathroom door, but when she spotted Maura on the floor, panic gripped her heart and she rushed inside.

"What the hell? Maura, are you alright?" she gasped but then stopped dead in her tracks and fully conceived the scene. The doctor wasn't exactly lying on the floor — that is, her back was, but her legs were up a wall in what appeared to be a yoga position.

"I'm fine," Maura murmured as she squinted at the woman standing over her.

"Then why are you cuddling with your bathroom floor?" Jane asked with concern and crouched down next to the blonde.

"Viparita karani — it helps relieve nausea," the doctor explained.

The detective raised her eyebrow. "So, you're not fine? You're nauseous?"

"No… well, yes…," Maura stammered. "I mean I was, but I'm not anymore… I think…"

Shaking her head in confusion, Jane lay down next to the other woman and put her legs up the wall as well.

"What are you doing?" the doctor glanced at her from the side.

"Your stammering is making me nauseous," the detective quipped and got a soft punch in her arm from Maura in response. After a few moments of silent staring at the ceiling above, Jane turned to Maura. "You know what else would make you feel better?"

"What?" the blonde curiously looked at Jane.

"Sleeping in your damn bed!" the brunette exclaimed and got up again.

"Well, it's too late now," Maura declared as Jane helped her up. "We have to get to work."

The detective resolutely shook her head. "You're not going anywhere."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine," the medical examiner objected but then squinted and supported herself against the sink as all color left her face.

"Yeah, right," Jane grunted. "Then why do you look like a ghost after a 24-hour ride on Space Mountain?"

"That's perfectly normal," the doctor declared. "Changing from a recumbent into an orthostatic position causes a decrease in systolic and diastolic blood pressure, which results in an insufficient blood perfusion in the upper part of the body." After a deep breath, Maura relaxed, mustered her most convincing smile, and shoved Jane out of the bathroom. "Let's go."

The detective worriedly glanced over her shoulder. "Well, just so you know, if you pass out at work, I won't catch you when you fall."

"Of course, you will," Maura smiled.

"I will not," Jane pouted.

Just as they were leaving the bedroom, Maura froze in the door frame. "Uh oh…"

Jane turned around. "What?"

Without any answer, the blonde rushed back into the bathroom. Seconds later, the sound of half-digested food being hurled into the toilet removed any doubts about Maura's condition. Trying to suppress her I told you so face, Jane grimaced and trudged into the other room.

"So, how's that yoga thing working for you?" the detective teased with a sympathetic smile as she held back the doctor's hair until her stomach had nothing left to offer.

Too shaken for a response, Maura flushed, let out a sigh of exhaustion, and leaned against the wall in her back.

Keeping her worried eyes on the blonde, Jane reached for a cloth from a hook next to the sink, moistened it, and handed it to Maura. "You still want to go to work…?"

The doctor weakly shook her head and buried her face in the cloth.

While the detective was still studying the other woman with concern, the buzzing of her phone suddenly broke the silence and she glanced at its display before taking the call. "Hey, Korsak, what's up?" An instant later, her face darkened. "What?! Sh… Yeah, okay, text me the address, alright? I'm on my way…" With that, she hung up and frowned at Maura. "Looks like we got an explosion this time…"

Aware of the implications for their case, the medical examiner nodded faintly. "Go… I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'll lie down and just sleep in my damn bed for a while."

Jane chuckled and caringly pecked the blonde on her forehead before getting up. "Okay, but I'll try to stop by for lunch."

As soon as the detective had left, Maura sighed and buried her face in her cloth again.

Twenty minutes later, Jane stopped her sedan in front of their newest crime scene in a middle-class Dorchester neighborhood — a two-story family home that was now partially burned down and marked by a huge hole in one of its outside walls. Firetrucks were blocking the street, a bomb squad van was parked in the middle of the driveway, CSRU techs were scurrying back and forth, and anxious neighbors across the street were curiously watching from behind their still shiny white picket fences and the yellow tape.

Jane let her eyes wander over the scene until she spotted Korsak near the charred front porch.

"Hey, where's Doctor Isles?" her partner greeted her.

"Sick… That new guy from Holyoke will fill in. He's already on his way…," the detective explained, then focused her attention on the house. "What happened?"

"Family of four. The Millers. A neighbor saw them gathered in the kitchen for breakfast when the bomb went off," Korsak shook his head in disgust. "Ripped the whole room apart — no chance of survival for any of them."

Clenching her fists in frustration, Jane noticed a middle-aged woman leaning against the back of an ambulance and crying in shock. "Is that the neighbor?"

"Yeah," the sergeant nodded. "Bomb squad already recovered parts of the bomb near the kitchen window. Same type as the previous three bombs." Korsak led her around the house towards the exploded kitchen.

Fighting back the demons that had been haunting her ever since that fateful Brookline explosion five months ago, Jane peeked into the ruins of the Millers' kitchen and gasped in shock at the sight of their charred bodies on the floor. "Damn it!" she averted her eyes and swallowed hard.

Painfully aware of the roots of Jane's anger, Korsak decided to keep her detective senses busy. "The house didn't have any alarm, so they could've simply come in through the window and planted the bomb at night…"

Unfortunately, the sergeant's strategy wasn't as effective as he had hoped and Jane furiously kicked a piece of charred rubbish into the hedge.

It wasn't the first time that Korsak was confronted with such an outburst, and almost routinely, he grabbed Jane's arm and forced her to look at him. "Jane, it's only been four days and these sickos aren't exactly predictable. We got officers at all crime scenes looking for witnesses. The crime lab has been putting in extra hours, too… We're doing everything we can."

The brunette shook her head. "Are we?"

"There's no way we could've prevented this," the sergeant insisted.

Desperate for a break in their case, Jane finally took a deep breath and held her partner's gaze. "We have to find that damn room where they're holding them…"

Korsak nodded. "Yes… and we will."

Hours later, everybody at BPD was frantically working the case in an attempt to prevent more deaths and another explosion.

In the morgue, the four charred bodies of the Millers were being examined by Maura's colleague from Holyoke — a routine procedure since their neighbor had witnessed everything and there wasn't any surprising result to be expected from the autopsy.

On another floor at BPD, bomb squad experts were busy analyzing the remains of the bomb, recreating the whole scenario, and comparing the explosive material and its design to system records to determine whether the perpetrators might have had help from other known bomb afficionados.

In the crime lab, every available technician was fully focused on examining the clothes of the victims, the evidence from the different crime scenes, and the bomb threat notes the killers had left behind. Maybe a finger print or DNA had been overlooked, or maybe the type of computer or printer used for the notes would lead them to a specific print shop — it wouldn't be the first time that such peculiar clues would help solve a crime.

And upstairs, in the BRIC, Jane and Korsak were glued to their seats and going through all their evidence again, hoping to find something — anything — that would lead them to the mysterious location where their philosophy killers were subjecting their victims to these gruesome moral dilemmas. A whiteboard next to their desks held photos of victims, candidates, and other details, whereas the large screens on the wall were filled with surveillance videos from traffic cameras and webcams in the proximity of their crime scenes.

They still didn't know the identity of their second candidate, the one who had been forced to decide between the bomb at Luigi's and Oliver Schultz, the sports retailer whose body had been found behind the airport motel. Maybe that second candidate was still hiding, afraid to be held responsible. Or maybe he — or she — had violated some of the killers' rules and paid the ultimate price for such disobedience.

As Jane was studying the names and photos of their victims again, she paused at the sight of the five dead men from the fourth scenario. "Do we have anybody on the alumni list who's working in a prison or at the Department of Corrections? Or maybe as a probation officer?"

Korsak curiously looked up from the file in front of him. "Because of all those felons?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded. "We got six of them already. Our killers obviously know where to find them and what they've been convicted for."

"Could also be their lawyer though," the sergeant mused.

The detective shook her head. "I've already checked. They were all represented by different offices, different lawyers, in different years…"

"Okay, I'll go through our alumni list as soon as I'm done here," Korsak decided.

For another minute or so, Jane leaned back and played through different possibilities in her mind, then uneasily peeked at Korsak. "You think that, after a few years, a successful career at Harvard might be boring enough to turn someone into a serial killer?"

The sergeant frowned and put away his file. "You mean Howell?"

"I can't say I haven't considered it…," the brunette shrugged. "I've had an officer check his schedule and keep an eye on him… Looks like he's minding his daily business though."

"But if he has a partner…" Korsak rubbed his tired eyes, got up, and stretched his legs.

"I guess I'll pay him another visit…" Jane checked her cell phone and got up, too. "Maura's not answering her phone, so I'm just gonna make a quick stop at her place first…"

"Alright," the sergeant nodded. "I'll grab a coffee downstairs at the Café."

"Uh, but don't tell my mother that Maura's sick at home!" Jane warned him. "She'd be hovering all over the place and spoonfeed Maura some weird medieval family recipes…"

"Okay," Korsak chuckled and strolled out of the BRIC. "I'll see you later."

Shortly thereafter, Jane got out of her sedan in Maura's driveway and rushed to the front door, spare key in one hand and a large Thermos mug of take-out soup in the other. Once inside, when there was no sign of the medical examiner in her great room, the detective snatched a spoon from the kitchen counter and headed for the stairs but then stopped halfway at the sight of Maura's cell phone plugged into a charger on the table behind the couch. As Jane realized why she hadn't been able to reach the blonde, she let out an annoyed groan, grabbed both the phone and the charger, and hurried upstairs.

However, her momentary frustration instantly ebbed away as she spotted Maura sound asleep in her bed, wrapped into two blankets and unaware of her lunchtime visitor. For a moment, Jane paused in the door frame and added the peaceful scenery to the many pictures of Maura already stored in her mind, then she tiptoed to the bed, crouched down, and gently brushed the doctor's arm.

"Hey, Maura…," she whispered and waited for the blonde to wake up. "Brought you some soup from that place you like…"

"Hmm… thank you…," Maura murmured drowsily.

Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the sight of the sleepy doctor, Jane nudged the other woman's arm. "And how about you check your phone every once in a while?"

"What…?" Sensing the irritation in the detective's voice, Maura propped herself up on her elbow and checked her nightstand in an attempt to locate said phone.

"And don't tell me it's broken again, because it's not," the brunette grumbled.

"How do you—?"

Jane tossed the phone along with its charger onto the bed. "Found it downstairs…"

"Sorry…," Maura sighed and sank back down. "I probably wouldn't have heard it anyway. I fell asleep right after you left."

"Well, I was worried…," the detective pouted playfully and let her fingers brush over Maura's hand. "Are you at least feeling better?"

"Yes…," the blonde nodded into her pillow as her fingers linked with Jane's.

For a little while, silence filled the room as Jane kept playing with the doctor's hand, instinctively and almost unaware of her own actions, until Maura's eyes fell on their perfectly entwined fingers. And she knew they couldn't continue this dance forever. "We'll have to talk about it at some point…," Maura whispered.

Without letting go off the doctor's fingers, Jane nodded weakly. "After this case…"

Maura pulled her hand closer to her face, forcing the brunette to look at her. "Promise?"

As their eyes locked and their hands became one, Jane nodded again, this time more determined. "Promise."

"Okay… Go catch some bad guys," the blonde smiled encouragingly. "I'll be right here when you get back."

Hesitantly, the detective got up and squeezed the doctor's hand one last time. When Maura snuggled into her blankets again and closed her eyes, Jane finally trudged out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the house.

Once she had locked the front door from outside, she rested her head against the frame and closed her eyes, yearning to just ignore her damn case and to rush back inside, to crawl under Maura's blanket and to keep her warm until her flu would subside. But it wasn't that easy. And the longer she thought about it, the less certain she was about the doctor's stance. Why had Maura hesitated at that damn trolley question? Would she seriously consider sacrificing someone she loved to save complete strangers?

So maybe it wasn't love after all...?

Before Jane's thoughts could get on another ride on that never-ending roller coaster in her mind, her cell phone buzzed and Sergeant Korsak's name blinked on its display.

"Yes…," the brunette sighed into her phone but then straightened up at her partner's voice. "Okay… I'm on my way."

After one last glance at Maura's house, Jane rushed back to her car to return to BPD, where the man who had triggered the bomb in the Millers' home had just turned himself in.