Katherine Brody is petite. She has soft blonde hair and delicate features, and she reminds Jane of the Maura Isles that reappeared in her life after a fifteen year absence. The Brodys decide to come over to the city to collect their son, even though Lukas spends almost thirty minutes on the phone trying to talk his mother out of it.
"I got down here on my own, didn't I?" He'd said into the phone, leaning against the breakfast bar in the kitchen like he'd been doing it his whole life. "I can go places and do things on my own. I'm nineteen years old, Mom!"
But Katherine had apparently held firm, and so less than 24 hours later, Jane and Maura are welcoming the Brodys into their home, Jane shaking hands with Kurt, and hugging back when Katherine throws her around her neck saying, "It's been forever. It's been ages. It's been far too long for how important you are in our lives."
It is praise she's not sure she deserves, and it makes her hot around the collar. Maura puts her hand in the small of Jane's back, like she knows.
Their children thunder down the stairs to say hello, and Katherine gets a little teary when she sees them all there, her son among them. "I knew we should have come," she says quietly to Jane, as Kurt hugs Lukas hello. "Look at your beautiful family! Look at how wonderful!"
She hugs Lukas hard, and Jane is pleased to see that he hugs her back just as enthusiastically. Over his shoulder, she catches Levi's eye, and when he smiles tentatively at her, she grins back, too content to hold onto any lingering anger.
They put the extra leaf in the table, and dinner is loud and warm and comical, thanks to the six children all trying to talk over one another, pushing each other out of the way and grabbing at the last roll.
Maura finally sends them all on their way, and the boys disappear to the basement, and the girls take over the living room, flicking the TV on.
"We have a room especially for them," Maura says, indicating the hall that leads away from the kitchen, towards the back of the house. "But do they ever use it?"
Jane laughs, "It's specifically called the 'play room,' but I've been known to hide in there to get paperwork done. Especially this past summer."
"We could have had more," Kurt says, leaning back in his chair and pushing his dinner plate away from him. "I always thought we should have had more."
Katherine makes a vague motion with her hands, "Oh…" she says, sounding distant, "we could have, I suppose. I was young enough when I met you, and we were still young when...well…" she trails off looking a little sheepish. "I guess I could never see my way to more kids."
No one around the table says it, but Jane has the impression that they are all thinking about Lukas' abduction, and the impact it had on Katherine's decision not to have anymore children.
"But," Jane says into the heavy silence that has fallen, "Lukas is out of the house now, and you have time and space to yourself now. You could travel...you could, I don't know, write a book!"
Katherine laughs, as though Jane has suggested that she do something outrageous like learn to fly an airplane.
"It must be a little bit nice," Maura chimes in, coming to the detective's aid, "to have time to yourselves now. Time just for yourselves."
"It's harder than you think," Katherine replies with a little shake of her head. "It's harder than you'd imagine, to let them just run off to college, when the time comes." She grins bashfully, and Jane is reminded again of Maura from several years ago. "Do you know Lukas actually had to call me and tell me not to send him so many care packages? He was getting grief for them in his dorm I guess."
"You gift wrapped his underwear," Kurt interjects, and Maura and Jane laugh.
"You didn't," the detective says.
"I thought I was doing him a favor," Katherine defends. "I thought he would be embarrassed if he pulled out a package of underwear in front of his roommates."
"So instead, he sees that it's a present and gathers all his friends around while he opens it, only to find…" Kurt raises his eyebrows, and this time Katherine laughs along with them.
"Okay, okay. It was a misstep. But he's my son. He's my baby."
"He's a man," Kurt says. "Shaves like one, smells like one. He's a man."
"A good one," Maura interjects quickly, because Katherine looks like she's going to get teary. "He's had an amazing effect on our children just in the short time he's been here. Especially our son, Levi."
"Right," Katherine says, and she leans back in her chair too, "We've been getting the Christmas cards, of course, but I admit seeing them all in person had me a little overwhelmed. You have...four children?"
"Unfortunately, we have three teenagers and one child," Jane corrects, "You remember the twins, Isabelle and Sofia, and then the littlest one is Noah and Levi is our oldest. Our broodiest."
"There were more," Kurt says, eyebrows knit together as he tries to think. "There were more today when we walked in."
"Right," Maura says, "The little boy who is Noah's shadow is our nephew Thomas Junior and the brunette with the twins is…" Maura hesitates for half a second, glancing briefly at Jane. "Well, that's Mckenzie. Isabelle's girlfriend."
There is a brief silence while the Brodys digest this, and Jane watches fear and then defiance wash over her wife's face.
But then Katherine leans forward and takes Maura's hand in her own. "Oh, goodness," she says, eyes wide and sympathetic. "Are you dying? Lukas has had girlfriends, and each time, no matter how young he was, I found myself thinking, what if this is it? What if this is the girl he chooses? And then how will I bear it?"
And Maura laughs, relieved. reaching to put her other hand over Katherine's. Jane wonders if her wife sees what she sees. If she sees Katherine as a funhouse mirror version of herself. LIke she's looking backwards through time.
It's nice, Jane realizes, to sit and talk with a couple about things besides police work, and procedures. For a moment she wonders what it would be like if she and Maura did not work for BPD. If their days were full of other things, other friends...less danger.
But then Kurt clears his throat.
"So what do you think?" He asks her.
Jane blinks. "About…"
"I'm sorry," He says with a little grin, "I'm asking you to put your detective hat on at the dinner table. But our son ran away from college over those boys in Springfield. He's convinced it's got something to do with the bastard who took him."
And Maura pulls her hands away from Katherine in order to slip one underneath the tablecloth and squeeze Jane's knee.
"I requested all their information on it," Jane replies, putting her hand over her wife's. "I can't say until I've looked it over. And if it is...all I can do is advise them of it. It's possible they won't want my help at all. And if they don't. There's nothing I can do to change their minds."
Kurt opens his mouth, but Katherine silences him with a look. "Just that you've done this much for him is amazing, detective...Jane. I mean it. You could have just turned him around and sent him back without hearing him...but you didn't. And we're so grateful.
"I would never," Jane says. "He changed our lives. That is the truth. And we think of both of you, all three of you, as family."
Katherine Brody's eyes fill with tears. Just like Maura's would.
…
…
Jane wakes up the next morning with a strangled cry, her hands throbbing with each beat of her heart.
"Bella," she wheezes, trying to push her hair out of her face with numb fingers. "Don't touch her."
Maura sits up next to her, and after a moment, she puts her hand on the detective's shoulder.
"Jane?"
"I'm fine," she says, knowing how unconvincing she sounds.
"Jane," Maura says again, sounding more awake. "Did you just have the Hoyt dream...with Isabelle in it, instead of me?"
Jane shuts her eyes against the images that Maura's words bring up. The answer is yes, she did, but to say that outloud would make everything worse.
"I'm fine," she says again, looking around at the clock. 7:43am. No use going back to sleep now. "I have to be at the precinct in an hour," she grumbles, starting to push the covers back. "Might as well get up."
She can feel Maura's eyes on her as she moves away to the closet. "You've been having that dream frequently," Maura calls softly. "Is this the first time one of our children was in it?"
In the closet, Jane rests her head against the wall. The answer to that question is no.
"Maura," she calls. "I don't want to talk about it."
Silence, though Jane knows that the doctor isn't giving in. Far from it. She tries to change the subject.
"If my brother comes looking for his child, will you please tell him to call me? He hasn't been responding to any of my messages." Through her mind, a flash of T.J., motionless on a prison hospital bed, throat slit wide open. She staggers a little, and stubs her toe on the dresser.
"Ow, shit," she swears.
There is the rustling of covers, and Maura appears at the door to the closet, looking worried.
"Jane," she begins, but the detective shakes her head.
"Maura, please? I'm just...I need some distance from that dream before we dissect it, okay?"
Maura bites her lip. "You're a phenomenal mother. And protector," she says.
Jane smiles half heartedly. "When I get back. Okay, baby?" She reaches out and pulls the doctor into her arms, pressing her lips to the shorter woman's neck. "I'm okay. I promise. And it's Sunday. Slow. I'll be home for dinner."
She feels Maura give in before she speaks. "Fine...but I'm not letting this go, Jane, okay?"
Jane nods. "Yes ma'am," she says, kissing Maura again.
.
She still a little preoccupied as she descends the stairs ten minutes later, and when she rounds the corner to the kitchen, the figure at refrigerator catches her off guard.
"Woah!" she cries, and the girl leaps back, losing her grip on whatever is in her hand.
The juice glass drops from McKenzie's hands and shatters against the floor. Glass skitters across Maura's pristine floor, all around Mckenzie's bare feet, and the teenager looks down at the mess and then up into Jane's face, terrified. "Isabelle said I could!" she says quickly. "I was thirsty, and she said I could come and get a-"
"Don't move, honey," Jane says, cutting her off mid sentence. "Stay where you are, okay?" When McKenzie nods, Jane turns and heads back into the hall. For a moment, she considers walking back upstairs to get her slippers, and then decides against it, stepping into her work boots that are by the door.
When she rounds the corner back into the kitchen, she sees that McKenzie has not moved. She is still standing in the middle of the shatter juice glass, eyes shiny with unshed tears. Jane frowns, but decides to act as though she doesn't notice. She crunches the outer ring of debris under her boots as she steps closer to McKenzie and hold out her arms.
"Okay, kiddo," she says lightly. "Jump."
McKenzie looks at her like she's speaking a different language. "Huh?"
"Jump," Jane repeats, trying to keep her face straight. "You're surrounded by glass and you've got bare feet."
"I didn't mean to drop it," McKenzie tries again, panic creeping back into her voice, "I was just thirsty and Bella said I could come down on my own and get something to drink, and you scared me and-"
Jane shrugs her shoulders, rolling her eyes good naturedly. "It's just a juice glass, Kenz," she says, noticing how the girls eyes jump back up to her face at the use of her nickname. "I'm more interested in keeping the little shards out of your feet. Now jump."
She says the last sentence firmly, and after another half second of hesitation, McKenzie jumps into the air, her eyes scrunched up as though anticipating pain.
Jane catches her easily, she is several pounds lighter than either of the twins, and lifts her a little higher, so her feet don't skim the ground.
She sets her down on the other side of the breakfast bar, and for a moment, McKenzie's eyes stay shut, her small hands wrapped tightly around Jane's upper arms.
"There you go," Jane says gently, and the teenager drops her hands, taking a step back.
"T-thank you," she stutters. "And I'm sor-"
"Just a glass," Jane says again, turning to the closet by the sink for the broom. "No big deal. You still thirsty? Sit down and I'll get you something."
McKenzie doesn't answer, but when Jane turns around with the broom, she's seated on one of the stools, watching the detective intently.
"What would you like?" Jane asks, sweeping some glass out of the way of the fridge. "We've got about every juice under the sun."
"Apple?"
"Coming up."
Jane grabs a new glass from the cabinet and fills it with apple juice, sliding it down the countertop to McKenzie who catches it with both hands, like she's afraid it will leap away from her.
"Thank you," she says quickly, and Jane is intrigued. Though her voice remains calm and quiet, and her eye contact is steady, McKenzie's movements are more like those of someone who is skittish. She is the oddest combination of timid and confident that Jane has ever come across, and the detective in her can't help but want to know more.
"You're welcome to our fridge and our pantry any time you like," she says, starting to sweep again. "That is, if you can manage to get something before the boys do." Jane chuckles a little at her own joke, but McKenzie looks serious.
"There's always enough food to eat here," she says.
Jane sobers at once, the sentence ricocheting off a part of her memory that she didn't know still existed.
"Yes," she says after a moment's pause. "There is."
McKenzie looks down into her glass, and then back up at Jane. "Izzy told me that you and Dr. Isles met when you were our age," she says.
Jane stops sweeping in surprise, but just manages to keep the emotion off her face. "A little older," she says, "I was sixteen, and Maura was fifteen."
"But you got separated for years and years," McKenzie says, her voice neutral enough, that Jane has to look around at her to see if she is asking a question.
"Yeah," she says. "Years and years."
"Did you really write her a letter every week for the entire time?" This time, McKenzie sounds a little eager, and Jane finds it hard to get annoyed at her daughter's sharing of this fact.
"Yeah," she says again. "Almost every week."
"Even after you became a cop?"
Jane smiles at this, reaching back into the closet for the dustpan. "And why would being a cop stop me from writing the woman I loved?"
There is a pause, and then McKenzie says, steadily. "My mother says cops have no soul."
Jane nearly drops the dustpan. She's not facing the breakfast bar, and she sends a silent thank you to the heavens that she is allowed a moment to fix her face.
"Oh?" she manages, tipping the shards from the broken cup into the trash can.
"Yes," McKenzie says as though she has no idea that Jane might have found this offensive. "But I think she must be wrong."
Jane doesn't answer. She doesn't know what to say. When she does turn around, McKenzie is looking at her, her green eyes unblinking.
"She is," Jane says carefully, "generally speaking. Most of the cops I know definitely have souls. And pretty big hearts."
McKenzie nods, and takes a final drink of her juice. "Yes," she says simply.
Jane has to put her hands flat on the countertop, a physical manifestation of her restraint. She wants to question the teenager in front of her about everything she has said since Jane rounded the corner 20 minutes ago. When she'd first met McKenzie, she'd pegged her for a little Maura, open and naive and sweet. But she is more than that, Jane sees now. There is something deeper.
Jane's watch beeps, signalling the top of the hour, and McKenzie jumps like it's a cannon blast.
"I've got to go to work," Jane says, running a hand through her hair. "Do you want me to give you a ride home, or are you going to spend the day here?" She hopes this comes out as a neutral question, or at least as an invitation.
McKenzie blinks. "I should go home," she says.
"You're welcome to stay here," Jane says hurriedly, "As long as you like, Mckenzie."
The girl doesn't answer, but she slides off the stool and heads towards the hall. "I'll get my stuff," she says. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
Jane shakes head head. "You live on Mission hill, right? It's not a problem."
McKenzie nods, pausing at the entryway to the hall. "Detective Rizzoli?" she asks quietly.
"Jane."
McKenzie hesitates, and then seems to force her mouth to say the word. "Jane," her eyes get a little wide for the space of a second. "I-I really like Isabell...a lot," she finishes.
Jane can't help her grin. "I know," she says, gesturing that the teen should hurry up. "I'm glad."
McKenzie's smile is sudden and, Jane has to admit to herself, really pretty. She turns away and heads down the hall, and Jane listens to her feet on the stairs, thinking hard.
…
…
It's still affecting her when she arrives at work twenty five minutes later. Frost looks up cheerfully when she enters, but at the look on her face, his smile vanishes.
"Oh boy," Korsak says, looking up too. "The last time I saw that face, you'd put all of Maura's Hermes scarves in the washer."
"Yeah, but that time, we could hear Maura still yelling from the morgue," Frost says. "What's up Jane."
Jane sits down at her desk, biting the inside of her cheek momentarily. "Frost," she says, like she hasn't heard him. "I need you to do me a favor."
Frost nods. "Sure, Jane. What's up?"
"There's a girl in Bella's class...McKenzie Brown...can you run a background on her family?"
"Uh…" Frost says, glancing at Korsak. "Isn't that the girl that Bella is dating?"
"Aw, Jane," Korsak says, putting down a folder he'd been reading. "C'mon...whatever McKenzie did to Isabelle doesn't mean that you have to go digging up dirt on-"
But Jane shakes her head, annoyance pulling her out of her preoccupation. "I am not digging up dirt on her, Korsak," she says gruffly, "and she hasn't done anything to Bella...I just...I dropped her off at her house this morning, and there were like thirty seven red flags, and I just...well I want to know the whole story."
Korsak looks reluctant, but Frost is already typing. "What happened?" he asks as he taps at the keys.
Jane recounts her conversation with McKenzie from the morning, and even Korsak looks a little worried by the end.
"So I drop her off at her house, right?" Jane continues, "a disgusting, three family, shack type thing on the hill? And I ask her if she wants me to walk her up, because it's like nine in the morning and there's already a group of dangerous looking boys on the corner."
Frost nods, and Korsak shakes his head looking disgruntled.
"And get this?" Jane continues, "she says no. Her mom's home, and she hates cops. She says a cop shot her older brother, and her mom doesn't do much but miss him."
"Shit," Frost says.
"Yeah," Jane echoes. "So I let her get out, but I stay to make sure she gets in, and she goes up to the door, and rings the doorbell."
"At her own house?" Korsak asks incredulously.
Jane nods. "Right? It's weird. And it takes her mother like a full two minutes to come to the door, and when she does…" Jane tries to think of words to describe the woman who pulled McKenzie inside by the strap of her backpack. "I dunno. I just want to know more," she says finally. "I mean, not just because this kid is coming around my house and hanging out with my kids every day. Also because it really seems to be a bad situation."
Frost nods, eyes focused on his computer, but Korsak continues to look at Jane.
"What?" she asks, unable to help her defensive tone.
"Nothing," he says, shaking his head, "I just...do you think maybe you are stretching yourself a little thin?"
"What does that mean?"
"It means you criticize me for what I do with animals, but how is this any different?"
Jane's eyebrows shoot upwards. "Uh...They're people?" she says sarcastically. "They're humans, and not animals?"
"Exactly," Korsak says, "So it's more complicated than lining a box with a towel and putting down some milk."
Jane grumbles, leaning back in her chair. Korsak holds up the folder he'd been reading previously.
"They sent you the information you requested from Springfield," he says.
Jane sits forward. "Yeah? Did you look it over? What do you think?"
Korsak sighs heavily. "I think it's the same guy," he says grudgingly. "And I think when you tell them that, they're going to want you to assist." Korsak holds up his hand to stop her response. "And I think, Jane that I'm not the only one who would be unhappy to hear that you are splitting your time between here and Springfield."
Jane sighs heavily, and Korsak lets this sink in before continuing, voice a little gentler.
"You're the best detective I've seen, Jane. But you're not twenty four anymore. Or even thirty. You have to pick and choose now."
"Got it," Frost says, looking up from his computer, apparently oblivious to the conversation that's been going on without him. "What's wrong?" He asks, looking at Jane's expression.
"Nothing," she says, with a pointed look at Korsak. "Tell me what happened."
…..
…..
"Okay, spill."
Maura sits on the end of their bed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.
"Hmm?" Jane says, turning to look at her.
"You have been distracted since you got home, Jane. You told Noah his homework looked okay, and he wrote that the pilgrims and the native americans exchanged cell numbers and promised to remain friends!"
Jane laughs out loud. She does not even remember reading that. "To be fair, Maura," she says, still laughing, "I wouldn't know if that were accurate or not."
Maura doesn't even crack a smile. She scrutinizes her wife carefully, looking for an in. "Is it the dream?" she asks finally.
Jane sighs. "Maura...I don't-"
"You said tonight, this morning, Jane Rizzoli. Don't you dare duck me now. This is important. You're dreaming about Hoyt again, and you're dreaming he murders our children. Honey, that's important."
"No it's not," Jane says, not meeting her wife's eyes. "It just means...it just means I don't want anything to happen to them."
Maura looks a little surprised, and then a little put out. "You've had the dream before," she says quietly.
Jane nods.
"Always Bella?"
"No…It rotates. But usually her. Jesus, it's scary, Maur."
Maura nods, but doesn't move towards her wife. Not yet. "I can't imagine."
For a moment, Jane debates whether or not to tell her wife what she's found out. She doesn't want to hear a lecture on ethical behavior. Not when it comes to her children.
"Look," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "I found something out about McKenzie today."
Maura looks apprehensive, and her question proves just how well she knows Jane.
"How," she asks.
Jane rolls her eyes, even though she is a little bit pleased. "I made Frost do some digging," she says, holding up her hands as Maura fires up.
"Jane Rizzoli!"
"Listen, Maura, she's kind of dodgy...okay? There's something going on!"
"I can't believe you would…Is this the way it's going to be with each of our-"
"She mentioned her mother hates cops, and that her older brother was killed by one!" Jane says, and Maura falls silent.
"What?"
"She lives in this...truly shitty part of town, Maura. I'm sorry, but there's no other way to describe it. And I offered to walk her in, and she said her mom hates cops because her brother was shot by one, and...what was I supposed to do?"
Maura sighs. "Oh, Jane…"
"So I made Frost look it up. It's awful."
Maura shakes her head. "Don't tell me."
"You don't want to know?"
"I don't think I have a right to know! That's her business. Who knows if she's even told Isabelle."
Jane considers this, but doesn't tell her wife that she thinks Mckenzie and Isabelle are closer than then know.
"I just...I'm worried about her."
"I know you are," Maura says, sounding a little disgruntled, "but please, Jane. Please, don't do something rash."
Jane holds out her hands, feigning innocence. "Me?"
Maura narrows her eyes. " Yes, you. I know you, Jane," she says, turning to pull back the covers and slide into bed. "You get that look on your face when you find some new thing to add to that lock box you call a heart."
Jane spins to look at her wife, ready to fight about what feels like an insult, only to see that Maura is smiling at her.
"I don't mean it in a bad way, honey," she says gently. "I mean that you find something or someone and you decide that you're going to love and protect them, and there's nothing that anyone can do to talk you out of it. It's one of my favorite traits you possess, Jane."
The brunette turns back around slowly, looking down at her sock feet against the carpet.
"You should have seen the place, Maur," she says after a second. "It was really disgusting. And her mom...I mean, something's really wrong with her."
There is a pause as Maura shifts against the pillows. "She could be suffering from depression," the doctor says.
"Still?"
"How long would you suffer if you lost one of our children?" Maura counters indignantly.
"Forever," Jane says firmly. "But I wouldn't lose sight of the fact that I had others. I wouldn't let them drown just because I was."
Jane feels hands on her shoulders, kneading softly. Maura has climbed out from under the covers and has come to kneel behind her. She rests her chin on the detective's shoulders.
"I know," she says softly. "And what you have to realize is how very rare that makes you."
"You would do the same thing," she says, and when Maura's hands tighten on her shoulders, Jane reaches up and pulls them around her, running her fingers up the doctor's arms.
"You would," she says again.
Maura makes a jerky sort of motion with her shoulders. "I don't like to deal in the hypothetical," She says finally. "You know that."
Jane smiles and pulls herself up off the bed, out of her wife's embrace. She pulls her shirt up over her head, her thought still on McKenzie.
"She's hiding something," she says, voice muffled by the cotton.
"You're tired of dumplings?" comes Maura's confused voice.
Jane frees her face from her t-shirt and tosses it in the general direction of the hamper.
"She's hiding something," she clarifies, and then, when Maura still looks perplexed, she prompts, "Mckenzie?"
"Oh," Maura says, relaxing back against the bed again. "I'm sure she is. Most teenagers are, Jane."
"Maur-"
"Jane!" Maura says, half exasperated, half amused, "honey, I know why this gets to you, okay? The deplorable conditions and the distant mother, brooding over the loss of another, unattainable child?"
Jane pretends to look disinterested, but they have been married far too long for her to pull it off. Maura's face is all kind understanding.
"Let me ask you this," she says after a a moment of prickly silence.
Jane tilts her head to show she is listening. "When you were her age...a little older," Maura takes a breath, "when your family was at its worst finacially. If you'd met someone like Isabelle...someone like me. and her mother had tried to get you to talk, what would you have done?"
For a moment, Jane thinks about lying, and then gives up. "I would have bailed," she says finally.
Maura nods wisely, "You would have bailed. How do you think Isabelle will feel if McKenzie bails, Jane?"
"I just feel like we should be doing more," Jane tries to fight the prickle of frustration that is seeping up into her hairline. She pulls her sleep shirt on and turns to flop down on the bed beside her wife. "I just feel like…" but she trails off when she feels Maura's lips on the back of her head.
"When she comes over, we feed her. We include her, we make sure she knows that she is always welcome here, has a place at our table…" Jane snuggles closer to Maura, trying to take comfort in those words.
The doctor reaches out to snap off the bedside light. "That's all that we can do, honey."
Maura wraps her arms around Jane's middle and the detective responds after a moment. "I love you Maura," she whispers, and she feels the other woman hum happily.
"I love you two, sweetheart." Maura squeezes Jane around the middle. "Stop thinking," she murmurs, her voice suggesting she is already mostly asleep. "Lukas, McKenzie, work, our kids…you can't hold it all, Jane or you'll drive yourself insane."
"Thank you, doctor," Jane says.
Maura chuckles, "Go to sleep, pretty girl," she says, and then doesn't say anything more, and Jane knows that she has fallen asleep herself.
The detective spins so that she is wrapped around the doctor, their bodies, creating a shallow letter c on the bed. Jane brushes Maura's hair to the side and kisses the spot just below her ear.
But she doesn't sleep. Not for hours.