Title: Hamilton Gregg Wants to Kill Your Face (9/?)

Author: Maggiemerc

Rating: M

Status: In Progress

Fandoms: Rizzoli & Isles, Grey's Anatomy

Pairings: Callie/Arizona, Rizzoli/Isles, Rizzoli/Arizona (but purely past tense)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. It is a tragedy I suffer through daily.

Summary: Fresh on the heels of the season two finale Rizzoli is trying to manage her confusing feelings for Maura and the case of a criminal from her past. Her hunt to stop him before he kills again takes her to Seattle, and straight into the sights of her ex.

Author's Note: This may need mentioning. This story takes place before the last three episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Clearly, as Arizona is not walking around going "argh my knee" in a George C Scott being hit in the groin with a football voice. That also means no Nick.

Chapter Nine

The immediate danger when a carotid artery was cut was that blood flow to the brain would be impeded and the patient would have a stroke. Strokes were fickle ailments. They could do little more than cause temporary slurring or they could be so devastating that they put the patient in a vegetative state.

They weren't something you gambled with.

So when a carotid artery was cut the goal of the doctor was to keep the person from bleeding out and restore blood flow to the brain.

In an OR with instruments and machines and a staff of highly trained nurses and medical personnel.

In Callie's kitchen her only focus was stopping the blood. It was hot in her hands and the smell made the room reek. Which was odd. She was accustomed to the smell of blood. Like burnt flesh and exposed marrow it wasn't something that usually bothered her.

But it had never been in her home. Every where.

The man let Jane drop and she'd sort of spun in a pirouette like a dancer— spraying a geyser of blood across the room and onto Callie. It was only the taste of it in her mouth that pulled her out of her shock. Then she was moving towards Jane and forgetting all about the man, who dropped his knife and disappeared out the door as casually as if he'd just stopped by for sugar.

Jane tried feebly to reach up to touch her wound but Callie easily pushed her away with an elbow. She could feel the woman's blood soaking through the knees of her pants.

Damn it. There was so much.

Jane was watching her and trying to speak but there was only more blood.

No.

No, she was trying to breathe. Her trachea had likely been injured.

A shadow at the door and then Mark was kneeling next to her. Had he heard the cut? It was so loud in her head. The sound of a knife slicing through muscle and tendon and veins. Louder than a gunshot.

"Good girl Callie."

He was assessing her work. She didn't think it was exactly worthy of praise. She'd just stuck her hand against the wound and done everything in her power to keep more blood from leaking out around her fingers.

"Call an ambulance."

Mark was in control. Calm. She felt his hand on her cheek.

"You're doing fine Callie."

No, she wasn't. This was Arizona's ex-fiancee and she was bleeding on their floor.

"You can clean the floor."

Wait. She blinked. The world shrunk down. Back to normal. The blood on her hands wasn't quite so hot—only sticky. The smell was now not so pungent. Everything was suddenly a little duller.

"Was I babbling," she asked.

Mark nodded. Julia returned with a phone and a surgical kit. Mark used the penlight from it to examine the wound. He started muttering to himself and relaying details to Julia who relayed them to the ambulance dispatch.

Something wet and light glanced off Callie's hand and her eyes darted down to meet Jane's. "Don't talk." Jane wasn't trying to. Only trying to breathe. "We've got Mark Sloan on the case okay? He's the best there is. Having him across the hall? It's like having Arizona across the hall when a kid gets sick okay? There's no one better."

Jane's eyes were wide and watchful. Not quite terrified. Glassy.

"Just…stay alive okay?"

But how could you? The artery pulsed against Callie's fingers. Jane grew paler. Gray. Mark was sterilizing a tube to insert in Jane's neck to help with breathing. Julia was there with a compression bandage to apply to the wound. It wouldn't help.

Nothing could.

"Stay alive."

####

"Are you sure about this?"

"Going on a date with a potential sociopath? Who is straight? And a guy? What's not to be sure about?"

Jane's girlfriend's bravado was ridiculously cute. She tugged her forward by the lapels of her jacket and kissed her on the lips.

"I'm serious."

Arizona's hands were warm as they covered Jane's. "I am too." She stopped and looked up. "Well, I mean about the super confidence and being able to do this part. I'm definitely nervous about the going on a date with a straight male sociopath part because, you know, yikes."

Jane tapped the mic pack taped to the small of Arizona's back. "So don't let him touch this okay?"

"If his hands get anywhere near there—"

"But be polite. Playful."

She got a coy smile for that one.

"And be careful."

Arizona was impatient to get out of the car and head off for her date. She gave Jane a peck on the lips and slipped out of the ancient Corolla Jane's parents had loaned them for their "date."

"Officer Hot Pants? This is Doctor Sexy Sunshine. I'm going in."

She rolled her eyes. Of course Arizona would be talking to her microphone.

"Ooo he picked a nice place."

And talking to herself.

"I'm talking to myself. I mean. I look like I am. You can't see it Jane but I'm doing a really good job of not moving my lips while looking for him."

A hostess asked Arizona a question that sounded suspiciously like "Are you okay."

"And now the wait staff things I'm drunk. Going silent Hot Pants. See you in a few."

Her girlfriend was definitely going to get them killed.

####

A surgeon got accustomed to blood very quickly or they didn't last long as a surgeon. They saw it in the OR and they got used to seeing it covering people who stood in the halls of the surgical floor. Because sometimes accidents did happen.

But those people were in scrubs and surgical gowns and usually looked perfectly healthy—if a bit irritated about being covered in another person's fluid.

Callie didn't look healthy. She was pale with shock. And the blood that covered her was soaked into the knees of her jeans and covered her shirt and face like a fine mist. It covered her hands too. Like she'd been finger-painting in another person's ichor.

Seeing her wife covered in blood and looking lost in a place she'd worked in for nearly ten years was so alarming that for a moment the image didn't even make sense. Beside her Alex exhaled sharply. "Woah."

She called her wife's name. Loud and strong. And Callie heard her. She looked down the length of the hall. She was incapable of speech. Not quite shaking. Arizona's feet started moving, pounding against the tile. Alex was right beside her.

Callie spoked as soon as Arizona was within earshot. "It's not mine." A preemptive strike.

Arizona, not quite believing her, looked her over for signs of wounds.

"Did you trip and fall on some plasma," Alex asked.

She ignored him and directed her attention to Arizona. "He was there. When I got back. He was there just—holding her. And then he cut her and ran and I tried."

The words, like the image before her, took a moment to sink in. Then everything started to fall into place. "Jane?"

Callie nodded. She must have cried at some point because the splash of dried blood on her face was smudged, looking more like dark swirls of watercolors. "Mark heard me. He's in surgery with her now."

The urge to rush into the room and learn everything she could was so potent Arizona felt her whole body shift. But as quick as the urge took her it disappeared. Callie was shivering, the shock replacing the adrenaline that had no doubt carried her from the hospital.

Arizona took her wife's hands in her own. The blood hadn't dried and was sticky between them. But she couldn't think about that. Or about the woman Mark was fighting to save. She had to think about Callie, who'd come home to a murderer.

"Alex," she said, still looking at Callie, "I need to get her cleaned up can you go see if the cops are here yet?"

They'd be looking for Callie. They'd need to take photos of her current state and bag her clothes for evidence. Just to rule her out as the attacker.

The beat of rubber souls on tile told her Alex was doing as she asked.

"Are you okay?"

Callie nodded stiffly. "Julia has Sofia. She's down in the pit with Lexie and Cristina."

"Good," she said softly. Keeping their daughter in a very public place with easy access to security would keep her safe.

"He didn't even care," Callie almost whispered, "Just pulled the knife across her throat."

She closed her eyes. It was a mistake. Unbidden the image came up. Hamilton Gregg probably didn't even smile as he tried to kill Jane. Just dragged the knife across her throat like he was slicing a fish.

####

"He likes me Jane. And not in a sort of adorable way. He likes me in the make a suit out of my skin way."

"He is seriously creepy."

No. Unsettling. Arizona worked in a hospital. Like every doctor she'd done her rotations in psych and she'd met some well and truly insane people. But Hamilton Gregg was something wholly more terrifying.

Jane came around and rubbed her arms to warm her up. "You did good special deputy."

She glared at her.

"And you'll surely help us catch the bad guy." Jane had adopted a Texas twang that was totally at odds with her soft Boston lilt.

Arizona punched her in the arm. "Stop that."

Jane tipped an imaginary hat. "Yes ma'am."

####

Williams looked startled when he stepped in the room. He took in Arizona, still in her cap and gown, and Callie, still covered in blood.

"I was in surgery," Arizona said. She wasn't at home. She wasn't responsible and nor was Jane. Williams' silly assertion that they were suspects was a wash now.

He seemed conciliatory. "Dr. Torres would you liked to get cleaned up first?"

That was a surprise. Didn't he need to collect Callie's clothes and take photos before she washed away any potential evidence?

"CCTV at your building picked up Gregg entering and leaving. Dead to rights," he explained.

Beside her Callie exhaled shakily. She was still operating on adrenaline. There was only a tiny tremor in her hands to suggest she wasn't catatonic from shock.

"Get cleaned up," he continued, "and we'll talk afterwards."

Callie spoke up, her voice strong, "You're looking for him right?"

Willaims nodded. "We are."

"Because before you were thinking my wife and Jane were the suspects and now her blood is on our floor. It wouldn't have been—"

He quickly interrupted her, "I realize we were too cautious for your taste Ms. Torres. But we are looking for him."

"It's Doctor Torres, and if you don't want me and a very pricy brigade of lawyers on your doorstep you'll have a cop on my family for the foreseeable future."

He raised an eye. Arizona bit her lip. The adrenaline was apparently still going strong.

"I'll have someone assigned immediately."

####

Jane collapsed onto the grass and took deep breaths. She panted and motioned at Maura who was still jogging place to keep her heart rate up. "Would you sit down?"

"We're not done yet."

"It's ninety degrees outside and I can feel the acid in my stomach. We're done."

Maura jogged closer. "You're feeling nauseous?"

"I'm feeling like I'm gonna hurl all over your stupid toe shoes."

They really did need to keep their heart rates up, but it was also Jane's first attempt at running since she shot herself to stop a suspect. Pushing her too hard, especially when she was complaining of stomach pains, wouldn't be wise.

Maura knelt next to her friend and reached for the hem of her shirt.

"Any sharp pains in you abdomen?"

Jane swatted her hand away, "No just in my ass—stop that!"

"I'm just trying to be thorough Jane. Your abdominal wall is very weak at the moment."

Jane waved lazily in acknowledgement. Then took another deep breath.

"And you really should breathe through your nose. It's much more productive then through your mouth."

Jane groaned. "God you nag more then my mother."

Well that was just— "I do not." Though she was asserting herself much more than she had before the shooting. Nearly losing her best friend had been devastating and as far as Maura was concerned it would only happen once. Never again, and certainly not because Jane damaged herself.

She cracked open and eye and peered at Maura. Her lips curled into a smile. "You do a little." She closed her eyes. "But it's okay when you do it."

####

She prided herself on how she handled shock. Some people were prone to PTSD. Some people had night terrors. Some people cried. Some laughed. Some were as still as death itself. Everyone dealt with extreme emotional stress in their own way and Callie had always been secretly a little happy with how handled it all.

She processed healthily and moved on. Even in the moment her brain worked just fine. It was one of those talents that made her hell on wheels in a surgery and it was why she was the go-to ortho specialist in trauma situations. She moved fast and well.

But that ability to process meant she could step out of a situation, and in this particular case she was stepping away from her own situation to analyze her grasp of it. Because in the apartment she'd panicked—she'd succumbed to tunnel vision and ranted like a crazy person. Callie didn't rant…unless declarations of love were involved.

The door to the shower room slammed shut and involuntarily she shuddered. Naked and vulnerable in the shower was about the worst way to be caught by a serial killer or whatever he was. It was why Hitchcock did it in Psycho.

And what a way to go. The residents would definitely make Psycho jokes if she died that way. Lots of "ri ri ri" and knife slashing moments and probably a crack about getting killed by a crazy dude in his mom's dress. Hopefully after a considerable amount of mourning.

But the feet on the other side of the curtain were too tiny for six feet of very attractive psycho man.

As quick as the adrenaline surged it dissipated. She sighed, ducked her head and turned off the shower.

"Callie?"

Arizona sounded worried enough for both of them. She couldn't see Callie, the curtain was between them, but her concern was very present in her tone.

"I got you some scrubs and shoes. No socks though. There weren't any in your locker and I'm wearing the pair I had in mine. I can get you some sandals if you want? Or make one of the residents give you their socks. Though they all have tiny ant like feet or are Karev and Avery who don't understand what doing laundry means."

Callie wrapped the thin hospital issued towel around her midsection and pulled the curtain back. Her wife looked almost childlike standing there with a bundle of clothes clutched to her chest. She was still wearing her surgical gown and it always seemed to dwarf her figure. But it was her eyes. Wide and scared—for Callie? Jane? Just in general.

"I can go without socks."

"Williams is already working with Owen on arranging security here at the hospital. And Sofia is—" her smile was a struggle— "she's good. She's fine." She frowned. "I don't know about Jane though. I should check on her right?"

She pulled the scrub top out of the pile of clothes Arizona was holding and drew it over her head. Sometimes it was better to let Arizona rant. She so rarely processed things verbally that Callie liked to just let her go when she did.

"I should. Definitely. But I can't Callie. Because you were there and the idea of letting you out of my sight rips me apart."

The scrub bottoms were forgotten in Callie's hands. She looked up sharply. Arizona's rant had reached a turning point. The moment of finality they always seemed to hit when uninterrupted. Which was never, ever good.

"You were there." Arizona said—as if in awe. "I came close to losing you before. I can't—I can't do it again. I won't."

She looked so resolute, even swimming in her surgical gown and holding a pair of tennis shoes. But…she was near tears. Agonizing over whatever thoughts were lurking in that head of hers. Unbidden Callie found herself once more standing in an airport feeling the world fall away.

"What are you saying?" She angrily pulled on her pants but she tried to guard her tone—to sound even when inside everything was a mess. Arizona couldn't be—she wouldn't leave Callie. She wouldn't be stupid or cruel enough. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through.

She wouldn't run away again.

"I can't lose you Callie." She nodded firmly. "You can never leave."

Relief wanted Callie to collapse, but her wife's naked need kept her standing—strong. "I'm not going anywhere."

"After Tim? And now Jane?" She shook her head. "I can't lose you too."

Callie reached up to put a hand on her wife's shoulder. "Hey." She squeezed. "I'm not going anywhere," she reiterated.

Arizona didn't cry. Not in public. There was her weird authority thing. And that second time they'd broken up. But usually she was a stalwart little soldier.

"I can't…" Her voice was barely a whisper. The tears bright tracks on her skin.

Callie stepped close and drew the tears away with her thumb. Arizona was shaking with Callie so close and still nodding to herself. Callie wrapped her up in her arms and pressed her lips hard to her temple. She could be stalwart too. All the blood had washed away and with it much of the shock. So she could be strong when Arizona could not.

That's how a marriage worked.

####

Arizona shuffled into the apartment like a zombie and collapsed onto the bed fully dressed. Jane cracked open an eyelid.

"You look like crap."

Something was muttered into the pillow. Sounded like "I feel like crap."

"What happened," she asked sleepily. She didn't really want to know. She wanted to sleep. So she kept her eyes closed but put a hand on Arizona's shoulder to let her know she was there in spirit if not alertness.

"Another girl."

That woke her up.

"She was in the best shape yet."

"Funny way for a serial killer to escalate." They usually grew more violent and deadly. Not less so. This guy put girls in a pit. He'd had months to perfect his system.

"She was kidnapped the day before we met with Gregg."

And let go two days after his first official date with Arizona.

Arizona rolled over onto her back. "Do you think—what if dating me is making him better?"

Her girlfriend, ever the optimist.

"Could be."

"I sense a major but." She slapped Jane's ass for good measure.

"Or he's just making room."

Silence. Jane pushed herself up to look at Arizona, who was angelic in nothing but the moonlight. But pensive. Her mouth pursed in something between pensiveness and horror.

"For me," she asked softly.

She could have comforted Arizona then, but what was the point? They'd done this themselves. Enchanted a mad man. And done it far too well.

####

"You really are doing it," Frankie cried.

Maura jumped approximately two feet off the couch. She'd been deep in her research and hadn't actually noticed his entrance. She knew someone was there besides herself and Angela. She'd heard the doorbell and saw Angela go to answer it from the side of her eye. She just hadn't realized it would be Frankie in uniform and that he's lean over her shoulder, look at her work and promptly scold her.

"This stupid case nearly got my sister fired. What the hell are you doing?"

"Don't talk to Doctor Isles that way!"

"Ma this missing girls case is cursed. Do your remember what happened to Jane? Remember how Korsak had to save her ass from getting fired? And how Arizona—"

He stopped suddenly and glanced at Maura.

"I know about Doctor Robbins," she offered, "her injuries were quite extensive."

"Right. And so were my sister's. I thought Ma was joking when she said you were looking into this."

She turn around to sharply look at Angela, who wilted under her best Chief Medical Examiner stare. "I thought he could help?"

He nodded, "Right. And the best way to do that is burn all this and forget about it."

"This man abducted children."

"Jane's hunch. There was no proof."

A very frustrating point. As hard as Maura looked there was nothing yet. No evidence whatsoever. Just clues. Things she would usually refuse to consider facts. In fact, had the case been presented to her without the Jane factor her opinion would have been considerably different.

"Jane believed in this hunch so deeply she nearly lost her job. Something she loves more than anything else. And she nearly lost a girlfriend, whom I presume she also loved as they were engaged at one point."

That surprised him. Angela shrugged. "She's very good at getting information. I cracked like a walnut." She made a pathetic breaking motion for emphasis.

"Dr. Isles—Maura, you can't even look at blood without calling it a…a…'copper-tinted stain.' And now you're following a hunch? You're smarter than this. So's Jane."

He was right. Maura was smarter than investigating some eight year old case under the table. She was smarter than assuming guilt without proof. Usually. But Jane…Jane's "instincts" had saved her more than once. Her instincts were sometimes as fine as any silence. She wouldn't have thrown away a career. Wouldn't have flown across the country.

Unless… Jane could be emotionally compromised sometimes. And this other woman. Arizona Robbins. What if…

What if this wasn't about Gregg at all?

Angela's phone chose to ring at that exact moment and she smiled apologetically before answering it. "Jane," she said brightly, "we were just talking about you!"

She winked at Maura and Frankie.

But slowly…everything changed.

Her whole self seemed to falter. Her mouth snapped shut. The laughter in her eyes disappeared. She frowned. The frown turned to shock. Then anger. Finally tears sprung up.

"I'm on my way." That was all she said. Then she hung up the phone. She seemed to forget Maura and Frankie stood there waiting. She was falling into her own world. Maura shot Frankie a look and he hopped over the couch to take his mother by the arm.

"Ma you okay?"

"Jane's hurt."

He looked back at Maura. She came around the couch and took Angela's hands in her own. "Angela. You're going into shock. Tell us what happened?"

Angela shivered. "Yeah. Yeah. Jane was attacked. She's in the hospital. I got to go to Seattle? Where do you even fly into there?"

Frankie squeezed his mother's shoulders. "Ma what happened?"

"She," she looked up at Frankie. Then at Maura. "She said her throat was cut? Did you know you could even survive that?"

Maura had to hold back her retort; which was about survivability and how it was tied to the efficiency and speediness of the response and to having an excellent and specialized surgeon on hand. She said softly, "I did. You can."

That seemed to comfort Angela and helped pull her out of the funk she was on the precipice of. She dropped her hands to her side. "I gotta go pack and get a ticket and—I'll be right back."

She left before Maura or Frankie could stop her. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I guess I gotta figure out how to put an emergency ticket to Seattle on a debit card with five hundred bucks on it."

"I'll pay." The offer was immediate. It would never be a matter for debate. "I'd like to go. I'm a doctor and—"

"You can put the hurt on the hospital better than I can," he said with a grin. "I'll stay here then. Get Korsak and Frost on this from our end? You call me when you get there."

"I'll take care of her Frankie. I'll take care of them both."

He abruptly pulled her into a hug. "I know you will Doc. You're family."

She would never admit it out loud but the thought did strike her, had Arizona Robbins ever been considered family?