Maura

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the apartment was that everything was out of place. The couch was pushed back against the TV and in its place was a large table I'd never seen before. It was covered with a cheap but attractive table cloth and surrounded by folding chairs. There were seven places set, as if for a formal dinner.

Tommy sat in the kitchen, a pop in his hand, staring down at the wooden counter top. Beside him, I can see the the dinner that had never made it to the serving dishes. Garlic bread on cookie sheets, some sort of pasta dish that smelled of garlic and bacon in a pan on the stove. Bottles of wine that hadn't been uncorked. Three boxes from the small Italian bakery a few blocks over.

Tommy looked up, but before he could say anything, Angela appeared at the entrance to the hallway.

"Oh, sweetie. Thank goodness you're here."

"What's going on?" I asked the question, surprised at how angry I sounded. Angela had refused to tell me anything on the phone, other than that Jane needed me. I'd broken more than a few traffic laws getting to Jane's apartment, because it was Jane, but I was tired of this. Tired of being left out, excluded. If Jane was hurting, I wanted to know why.

"It's hard to explain, sweetie."

"Pop's a bastard, that's what's wrong," Tommy said. "Right now, I'm not sure I'm much better."

Angela walked over and put a hand on Tommy's shoulder, rubbing it gently. "You're here, sweetie. Better late than... well."

I looked back and forth between them, wanting to yell and scream and demand to be told what was going on. Instead, I asked in a polite tone, "What happened?"

Angela looked up at me. "You know Jane's been having a hard week, ever since she broke things off with Casey."

"Yes, but she seemed to be getting better."

Angela nodded. "She's been talking to people about it all week. Trying to get it all sorted out."

I tried my best not to show it, but her words were like a slap to the face. She'd been talking about it all week, apparently to everyone but me. I felt sick, and the only thing that kept me from turning and leaving was my concern for Jane.

Angela must have picked up on what I was feeling though, because she stepped around the counter and pulled me into a hug. "Honey, please, I promise you, you're taking this the wrong way."

"How am I supposed to take it?" I pulled back, extracting myself from her arms, and said what I'd been feeling all week. "How am I supposed to feel when she'll talk to everyone but me about whatever is going on?"

Angela reached out again, resting her hands on my shoulders. "She's scared. My poor baby, she's so scared. You know Janie, she's almost never scared, and she barely knows how to handle it when she is. She gets angry, she gets loud, she distracts herself, but she never admits she's afraid."

Except to me, I wanted to add, but I kept my mouth shut. I'm been hurt by careless words so much lately, that I didn't want to do the same to Angela.

"She's been telling people something, Maura. Something she's afraid will make us hate her. I think she's been putting off telling you, because the idea of losing you is the hardest for her to bear."

I took a moment to think about it, and in a strange, Jane kind of way, it made sense. I sighed, remembering my mother's words. Something else Jane and I had in common. We both did things the hard way.

"What happened tonight?"

Tommy answered. "It's my fault. At least, part of it."

I looked over at him, and he seemed to shrink down in his seat.

"I'm having a hard time keeping up with my rent without a steady gig, but I've been picking up extra work from some buddies. Overnights loading freight at the trucking depot and weekend painting jobs. I told Jane I'd be here tonight, but I picked up a job at the last minute. When I called to tell her I wasn't coming, we kinda got into it over the phone, and she just blurted everything out. Except Pop had walked in while she was on the phone."

"He didn't take it well?" I asked, stating the obvious.

"He got mad," Angela said.

"He and Jane fought?"

Angela shook her head. "No. Frankie... I've never seen Frankie get so mad. He got right up in Frank's face, and told him he didn't deserve to be called a man, much less a father." She looked down at the floor, and I could see a blush rise in her cheeks. "I know I should be horrified that he talked that way to his father, but honestly, I'm so proud of the way he stood up for his sister."

I made a note to do something nice for Frankie. Celtic season tickets, maybe. I'd have to ask Jane where the best seats were located.

Angela wasn't done, and when she started talking again, it distracted me from thoughts of ways to thank her son. "I thought they were going to hit each other. I think Frankie wanted Frank to throw a punch, but Frank just left. Didn't say a word to Jane. Just took Lydia and stormed out. And you know how much Janie loves her father. Even after everything, she loves him, and when he left..."

I did know. Jane hardly ever talked about it, but when she did, I could tell how hurt she was by the way her father had abandoned the family. "Where is she now?"

Angela pointed to the bedroom. "She's in bed. Frankie's sitting with her."

I nodded, and headed for the bedroom, not entirely sure what to expect. What I found just about broke my heart. For the second time in a week, I found Jane curled up, with her head tucked into someone's lap. Frankie sat there, gently stroking his sister's hair, but the look on his face was downright frightening. He was staring out the window with a look of absolute rage on her face.

"Hey," I said, just loud enough for him to hear me.

He jumped a little, and wrapped a protective arm around Jane as he turned towards me. For a moment, the rage was replaced with relief. He smiled at me, his whole body relaxing.

"Thanks for coming, Doc."

"Of course," I said.

He looked at me for a minute, and I could see the turmoil on his face. I wasn't sure what inner struggle he was having, but I didn't have to wait long to find out.

"I wish I could just tell you and get it over with," he said.

"I-"

"No," he said, and there was finality in his voice. "Don't ask, because I won't do that to her. However much I might want to, I won't. I just want you to understand something."

"What?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to here it.

"Growing up, Janie always took care of us, in all the ways Ma and Pop couldn't. Taught me and Tommy to fight, so we didn't have to worry about the neighborhood bullies. Taught us to stand up for ourselves, for people who needed help, for what we thought was right. Took the punishment for most of the stuff Me and Tommy did growing up. Got us out of the house whenever there was a fight brewing between Ma and Pop, and never, ever let them pull us into it."

"I've seen Janie hurt. Broken heart, broken bones... Hoyt, shot through the gut. 'Til tonight, I ain't never seen my sister broken."

He stopped, and I could see the pain on his face, and a shadow of the rage. I knew he was fighting to get it back under control, and I tried my best to be patient while I waited him out.

"Thing is, Janie, she always loved Pop. I mean, she loves all of us, but growing up, she thought Pop hung the moon, and it was pretty clear, she was Pop's favorite. Him walking out on us hurt, but she took it, because she had to be strong for Ma, but that was different. I think she told herself it was about Ma. But tonight, Pop didn't walk out on Ma, or Tommy, or me. Tonight, Pop walked out on her."

He looked down at her, and his voice dropped in volume, until it was barely more than a whisper. "In a minute, I'm gonna wake her up and leave her with you. I'm gonna shoo Ma and Tommy out, so you two can have some privacy. I just wanna be clear, before I do."

He looked back up at me. "You're the only person I've ever known Janie to love more than Pop. That means you're the only one left who can hurt her that bad. I'm trusting you not to, which ain't easy right now, so just... When she tells you what she's gonna tell you, remember that she loves you, and your opinion of her probably matters more than the rest of us put together."

Before I could say anything, he gave Jane a little shake. She shifted, curling in on herself. "Five more minutes."

He shook her again. "Maura's here."

Jane opened her eyes and looked up at me, and the look in her eyes made me want to cry. There was so much hurt in her eyes. She shifted, moving away from Frankie, so he could get up. He gave her one last pat on the shoulder, and stood up.

"I'll make sure Ma and Tommy clean up before they leave," he said.

"Tommy's here?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah. He showed up about a half hour after..." He didn't finish, but Jane nodded.

"Is he...?" she stopped, glancing at me.

"He's cool with it. He came by to apologize, and when he found out about Pop... He's taking that kinda hard. Feels like it's his fault."

"Tell him it's not, and that I'm not mad."

I forced myself to keep smiling through the entire exchange, trying not to get upset at the way they were talking around me. It was frustrating, and under other circumstances, I might have gotten angry about it, but on this occasion, I did my best not to let it get to me.

Frankie nodded and as he walked by me, he looked me in the eye and gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"Give her time," he whispered.

I nodded, then walked over to the bed. I kicked off my shoes and sat down in the spot Frankie had vacated. I gave my lap a little pat, and Jane looked at me, hesitating. I could see how nervous she was.

"It's okay. I'm here for you. You don't have to tell me anything unless you want to."

I could see her relax, and she scooted closer, resting her head in my lap. I reached down, gently stroking her hair with my left hand as I opened my purse with my right, and took out my phone. Jane looked up at me, curiosity written on her face, but I just smiled down at her.

"I'm being bossy," I said as I thumbed through my contact list to find Lt. Cavanaugh. Jane raised an eyebrow. I hit send.

"Cavanaugh."

"This is Doctor Isles."

"Everything okay, Doctor?"

"Not at the moment, but it's nothing too severe. I'm calling to let you know that Detective Rizzoli will be taking a personal day tomorrow." Jane started to sit up and protest, but I just shoved her head back down into my lap, and covered her mouth with my hand.

He laughed. "She's got you calling in sick for her now, Doc?"

"No. I'm doing this without her permission. You know how stubborn Jane is. She would try to walk out of ICU with a self inflicted gun shot wound to go to work."

He laughed again. "Don't remind me. I still get shit from Mass General about that."

I couldn't help but smile. As painful as most of those memories were, Jane under the influence of morphine had been highly amusing. "Well, Lieutenant, in my professional opinion, Detective Rizzoli is currently in no condition to do police work. I believe you can expect her back in the office on Monday."

"What are you gonna do, Doc? Sit on her to keep her home?"

"If it comes to that. I'm going to arrange for either Doctor Baxter or Doctor Pike to cover the remainder of my on call rotation."

"Baxter, please. If I have to listen to one more detective bitch about wanting to shoot Pike, I may do it myself."

I grinned, trying not to laugh. "I'll do my best..."

"Take care of my detective, Doc. Hell, see if you can talk her into taking an actual vacation. It might get HR off my ass about how much time the homicide unit has piled up."

"I'll do my best, Lieutenant, but as a scientist, I'm afraid I don't believe in miracles. Good night."

"Night, Doc."

I ended the call and leaned back against the headboard, paging through my contact list again, looking for Baxter's number. After a moment, something wet and rough slid across the inside of my palm, and I jumped in shock, pulling my hand away from Jane's mouth.

Jane stared up at me, an annoyed smirk on her face.

"You licked me!" I looked down at my hand, then back at Jane.

"You just lied to Cavanaugh," she said.

"I did not," I said. "You're in no condition to do any sort of police work."

"Maura-"

"You're barefoot."

Jane looked down at her feet, and I watched as she opened her mouth to say something, then stopped, then did it again four more times. She finally seemed to settle on something to say and looked up at me.

"I could put my boots back on."

"I know that, but Lieutenant Cavanaugh doesn't" I said, and hit the send button. "Doctor Baxter, this is Doctor Isles..." The conversation was quick, and in less than two minutes, Doctor Baxter had agreed to cover the rest of my on call rotation, as well as my shift tomorrow. Once I was finished talking to her, I put in a quick call to dispatch, and informed them of the change to both my and Jane's schedule.

Jane lay quietly as I made the called, and as I sent texts to Korsak and Frost, letting them know that Jane wouldn't be in tomorrow, and to ask Angela in the morning if they wanted details. Then I sat my phone aside.

"I still can't believe you licked my hand," I said.

Jane grinned up at me. "Gonna send me to the loony bin?"

I considered her question for a moment. "Well, it wasn't my face, so perhaps outpatient treatment would be acceptable."

She laughed, and scooted a little closer to me. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being here," she said. "I know you must have better things to do with your night than take care of a complete basket case."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I can't think of anything better than being with you."

She reached up, placing her left hand on my thigh, just below where her head was resting. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way my body responded to the touch, which was entirely inappropriate for an interaction between best friends. Especially since Jane was in too much emotional pain to realize what she was doing. I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, using the centering techniques I'd learned in yoga to try to calm myself down. It wasn't especially effective, and I knew I needed something to distract me.

"There's no pressure, but if you'd like to talk about what happened, I'm here."

Jane didn't respond immediately, and for a while, we simply sat in silence, my hand stroking her hair. I was beginning to think she'd fallen asleep, when she finally spoke.

"Ma used to do this for me, when I was a kid. When I was tired, or upset, she'd sit down on the couch, and I'd lay next to her, with my head in her lap. She'd pet my hair while I watched the Sox, the Celtics, the Patriots, the Bruins. It was simple, ya know? I never really thought about it, never realized how much it meant to me."

"She loves you."

Jane nodded. "I know. It's just... Pop. I think I thought Pop was a god. Ma wanted me to wear dresses and play with dolls and have tea parties with my teddy bears. We'd argue, a lot. Then Pop would come home, and he'd take me out to the park to play catch, or teach me how to hit, or throw a football. It was like he didn't care I was a girl. He treated me the way I wanted to be treated. Taught me how to do all the things I loved. He's the one who made Ma let me sign up for softball, football, hockey and basketball. And he worked so much to make sure all of us had stuff. Gloves, pads, Jerseys, sticks, bats. At least, that's what I thought."

I listened, trying to hold back my own tears as I imagined her childhood. The kind I'd always dreamed of. So many wonderful memories, with the love on display for all to see.

"Now, I wonder if he worked so much to get away from us."

I felt tears running down my cheeks, and a tightness in my chest. I hurt. I hurt because Jane hurt and I couldn't stop it. I hurt because I knew that this was tainting a lifetime of happy memories that meant more to Jane that she'd ever admit.

"Don't think that, Jane."

"I can't help it. He just left. For a whole year, he was just gone. Then he comes back, wants to say he and Ma were never married, that we're all bastards. Then, tonight... It was awful Maura. He didn't even try to speak to me. And the way he and Frankie fought, I don't think they'll ever speak to each other again." Her hand tightened its grip on my thigh. "I lost Pop, and I took him away from Frankie too."

"You did no such thing," I said in my firmest voice. "You are a wonderful, amazing, caring, beautiful, brave woman. I don't know what you told him, and I honestly don't care. You deserve better than the way he treated you."

"I-"

"I'm not done."

She turned and looked up at me, surprise written on her face, plain as day.

"Frankie made his own decision. You didn't force him to argue with your father. You didn't even ask him to protect you. He did it because he loves you, because he wants to protect you, the same way you protect him. Frankie chose you over your father. If anyone is to blame, it's your father, for making it a choice in the first place."

I watched her. Tears were welling up in her eyes. I reached down and brushed them away. I wanted to help, so much, and I thought about everything that had happened, and what everyone had said to me, and then, much as I loathed to, I made a guess as to what could make it better.

"Your mother, Frankie, Tommy, Vince, Barry. They're all still here because they love you. And whatever it is, once you tell me, I'll still be here too, because I love you, no matter what. I won't stop, and I won't leave you."

If the look on Jane's face was anything to go by, maybe guessing wasn't so bad, after all.