A/N: Dear readers who may or may not openly express their love for this story (and its writer?), we are gathered here today for a new chapter, in the delay I had promised (look at me being reliable). I hope you like it. It's shorter than the last one, hopefully I'll upload an update later in the week.
I hope those of you still on board are having a good time reading.
Without further due, let's roll!
Maura was brought to the hospital with Doyle who remained unconscious the whole time. An officer was nice enough to follow her there with her car so that she could have it available and within reach. Jane went back to her apartment where two Police officers stayed with her for protection. Susie went with her and left the ME only when she was sure she was home safely.
It was strange to do sensible things when there was such a strong sense of chaos. Jane felt like Maura's anger was a ticking bomb on its way to explode. Maura was still on the thin line between reason and utter panic. Branco was dead, and that was maybe yet the only positive outcome of the past hours.
10am arrived at BDP's headquarters, and with it a worried Jane and a icy Maura. Cavanaugh was waiting for them in his office, dressed in casual attire and not shaven. They all greeted each other courtly and cut right to the chase.
"Would one of you explain to me what the hell is happening?" Cavanaugh started with preamble. "Just when the toughest case we've had this week finally has an opening, one of my best detectives and the Chief Medical Examiner of Massachusetts are found together in a room with two mob bosses, one of which is dead, the other one severely wounded. Care to enlighten me? Isles?"
Maura stood calm with her back straight while explaining, showing nothing of her internal turmoil.
"Two days ago, Doyle left a message at my house saying he had something important to tell me. I had not had contact with him since he was sent to Mexico and was not expecting to have any so this took me by surprise. He told me it was about Doctor Rizzoli, which made me fear it was something really important."
Jane looked at her friend. The contrast between how formally she had referred to her and her confession of caring about her left the ME even more troubled. Maura was really mad at her apparently, even more than it appeared.
"Are you telling me you went to see Doyle?" Cavanaugh asked with irritation. "Is that what you were doing there last night?"
"No, I went to see him once before, to clarify what he had to tell me that was so important. I saw him for the second time last night to have a serious talk about certain... agreements."
Maura's inability to lie was not going to help them calm down the Lieutenant who was now starting to be really angry.
"What?" he roared.
"Please, sir, let her explain everything. It's not-" Jane intervened.
"Dr. Rizzoli, I advise you to wait for your turn to speak. From what I understood you've been hiding pretty serious informations from me, so I'd suggest you stay silent for now."
"Yes, sir," the Doctor said lowering, her head.
She had heard of times when their chief was furious, seeing the living proof was something entirely more impressing.
"Isles, explain," he barked.
The Detective executed herself. She explained everything, she even talked about the witness protection program and how she had suggested that Jane could use it for her own protection. Cavanaugh seemed to grow redder each passing minute. He asked Jane for her side of the story. Her version was the same, she only filled a few missing gaps for the events of the night, including how Chang had come to Doyle and Maura's meeting point without exactly meaning to.
"Isles," Cavanaugh sighed, scratching his morning beard. "You are a clever person, and one of Boston's finest detectives. How could you have put yourself in this kind of situation? Do you have any idea of what we almost had to deal with? Doyle AND Branco working with one of our detectives in an affair involving another member of BPD. And Dr. Rizzoli, when were you planning on talking to me about this vast research of yours on the mob network?"
"Soon, sir," the brunette answered. "I wanted to have a complete and thorough work to present you. I just needed a few more information."
"We are lucky only Doyle and Branco know about this. Isles, you're sure that's the case?"
"I don't think Doyle wanted to trick me. He was trying to make a point and let the information slip."
The Lieutenant nodded and turned to the Italian.
"Dr. Rizzoli, no more secret researches. I'm going to need everything you have on Boston's mob as soon as possible. Everything, I mean it."
"Yes, sir."
"You two are off duty starting now and for a week. Isles, leave your badge and gun on your desk. You'll have them back in seven days, until then I think it's best you're not tempted to use them for a wrong purpose, even if it's with a good intention. Doctor, you're off too, so I don't want to see you anywhere near your morgue. I expect you two to take a step back and think about the huge mess you nearly made."
They both nodded silently.
"Ca I go see Doyle at the hospital?" Maura dared to ask.
"Yes, as a civil. You'll listen to the officers there. If they don't want you in, you don't come in."
The blonde nodded again.
"I'm sorry, Isles," Cavanaugh added with a sincere tone. "I know he's your father but those are the rules. You both can go."
They said goodbye and exited his office. Maura walked fast to the elevator and made sure the door closed before Jane could come in. Swearing, the brunette rushed to the stairs. She managed to catch the Detective before she stepped through the large doors at the entrance of the precinct.
"Maura! Please, wait," she called.
The blonde stopped, one hand on the bar of the door. Jane took her chance.
"Maura, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
The Detective turned around with glassy eyes.
"Does it make you feel better to be sorry? Is it going to make you sleep at night? Is you being sorry going to make anything better?"
The sight of her best friend on the verge of crying made to Jane the effect of a blade lacerating her torso.
"No," the brunette barely whispered. She searched for her hazel eyes and found tears and hurt. "I acted out on instincts. He was going to shoot Chang. I didn't want to do it bit I acted out on instincts."
"You don't know if he would have done it."
"Of course he would have!" Jane exclaimed. "He would have tried to shoot me if I had been the one to barge into the room while he had a gun in his hand. I did it to protect your partner."
"Are you saying I can't protect my own partner?"
Maura was boiling. Jane actually feared that this was turning into something entirely deeper. She knew the Detective had a lot of personal issues she usually kept bottled up, like not being there to save Jane from Hoyt, or leaving him escape before that, or earlier letting Jane drive back home on her own.
"Wha-… no, of course not," the ME protested, shaking her head. "I'm trying to make you understand why I did it. I know you're angry at me but I want you to understand the motives behind my reaction. I'm… I want you to understand so that you don't hate me."
"Jane, you were threatened to be killed, I almost lost you twice and my biological father may or may not be dying because of you, all of this within the last 72 hours. I don't know how I feel. Everything is a mess. I have a lot to deal with at the moment, I would appreciate if you left me alone for the time being."
The Italian saw her fighting against tears and felt her own eyes start to water.
"Okay." She barely breathed the next words. "I'm sorry."
Maura didn't say anything else. She turned her heels and left. Jane stayed a whole minute standing in the hall of BPD's headquarters, emotions pounding into her like hits of hammer. Slowly, as if she were in a dream, she made her way towards the patrol car of the officer who had driven her here.
Frankie came to see Jane and check on her wounds. The cut on her forehead looked good and the little scratches due to the shattered pieces of glass were already scaring.
The ME told her brother about Maura. It was frustrating because she could not say everything, a lot of the information around the events being confidential, but still, even talking in puzzles about how she felt helped.
Frankie asked in which room of the hospital that "person Maura knew" was. Jane didn't know but she told him he would have to look for a room guarded by Police officers. The younger Rizzoli promised he would keep her informed on whatever he would find.
Although Jane more than often cursed at her family and complained about the noise and the drama, she also realized she was lucky to have a family this close and loyal. Tommy, her youngest brother, was a little lost and a little confused about where the limits of legality were drawn, but he was a true person with a big heart. He was not currently around but no doubt he would end up in trouble somehow and ask ihs brother and sister for help. Angela, their mother, was the purest cliché of the mama bear but there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for her children. Frank, their father, had been a good dad until he had run away with a girl half his age, leaving his family behind without a blink. This had been a hard blow on everyone in the Rizzoli's household, but it had also made them grew even stronger within their tighter circle.
No matter how hard they fought, they were a clan and always helped each other out. Which was what Frankie was doing. He understood that the nature of his sister's job brought a lot of mysteries in whatever was happening in her life, but he also knew she was his sister and, as far as he was concerned, that was all that really mattered.
Frost called Jane and came by her apartment in the afternoon. He convinced her to call Angela before her legendary motherly instincts informed her that something was wrong with her daughter. Jane eventually accepted and suffered with unreasonable patience Angela's long monologue on how her daughter always managed to find herself in trouble even though she was supposed to only cut dead people – which, by the way, was not exactly the type of doctor she had envisioned but what could she say, her oldest child only did what she wanted and never listened to her dear mother.
After what felt like an hour on the phone – and quite nearly approached it in actual time – Jane hung up and drew a long sigh. Frost looked at her with a sympathesizing look before offering her to order food and watch TV. The brunette thanked him but pretexted that she needed some sleep. The young man said he understood. After reminding her that he was only a phone call away, he left the ME with her two bodyguards – one cop patrolling in the staircases, another one in the entrance of the building.
In all honesty, Jane did need sleep. She was spent and her nerves were so tender she didn't know if she wanted to punch a hole in her wall, cry until there were no tears left in her body, or both. She settled on a warm cup of coffee on her couch, her eyes staring at empty space while her mind was so full it could explode.
Frankie smiled at the cute nurse at the ER reception desk. She giggled when he called her by her name. The orthopedic surgeon knew he would have the information he wanted in matters of seconds when she started twirling her hair around her finger with a flirty look.
Because he worked at the hospital and was a doctor, he could rightfully ask for information about patients even if they weren't his, but sometimes people working at the reception desk were lazy and moody, not to mention the little wars of power and priviledges taking place between the members of the hospital. You would think they would all be united under the same banner of saving people's life, but everything was always way more complicated than it should be.
When the nurse at the reception gave Frankie a piece of paper on which was written with a neat script a name and a number, he winked at her. She giggled once more and blushed slightly. Young women in the hospital – and a few men – usually liked the dark-haired Italian doctor. In their defense, the Rizzoli's had some pretty handsome genes running in the family.
Frankie made his way to the left aisle of Massachusetts General Hospital and looked at the scribbled paper.
Patrick Doyle. 315.
He frowned. The name reminded him of something, but what was it?
When Frankie arrived at room #315, he first saw two Police men standing on each side of the door. Then he saw people moving in agitation inside the room. The young doctor recognized one of his interns in the little crowd. They seemed to be checking the patient's vitals. Something in the way his intern was frowning told him it was not all good.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Frankie?"
With a disbelieved look, the doctor saw Maura come to him, her make-up smudged and a tissue in her hand. She looked terrible.
"Maura? What's wrong? What's happening?"
He was talking about whatever was occurring in the room currently and she knew it.
"His heart stopped," the blonde said with a constricted voice. "His heart stopped all of a sudden."
Frankie returned his attention to the room where everyone was busy trying to keep Doyle alive.
"I'm going in. I'll tell you exactly what it is."
"Thank you, Frankie."
Without further due, the young Rizzoli barged into the room. Maura only heard "What do we have?" and the intern answering something in unintelligible medical language before the door closed itself, muffling every sound.
She stood outside waiting, never taking her eyes off the body of her mob father lying on the hospital bed.
Half an hour passed before the dynamic inside the enclosed space changed. All of a sudden they were not busying like bees around Doyle. The Detective saw Frankie say a few things to a woman in blue scrubs before he turned and left. When he opened the door he walked up to Maura.
"He had a pretty severe heart attack," he explained. "Probably the side effect of the injury caused by the bullet that was lodged only a few inches from his heart. We stabilized him for now but he's not completely out of danger yet. We'll have him on observation for the next 24 hours. If he makes it he's out of danger, until then he's in critical state."
"Can I see him?"
"You can, but I'd advise you to let him rest. You should rest too. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea?"
"No, thanks."
"You should go home and have some sleep," Frankie advised with a tone that reminded the Detective of his sister's.
"I'd rather stay."
"Okay. Well, you can ask for me if you need anything. You have my number, or you can ask the nurses or the interns to page me."
"Thanks, Frankie."
"I gotta go, sorry. I have surgery in 15 minutes. I'll check on you later."
"There's no need, really. I'm used to being alone."
Frankie wanted to say something but his pager biped.
"Sorry."
"It's okay," Maura assured. "Go. I'll be fine."
"I'll see you later," the doctor said, already on his way to the ER.
The Detective turned away from the sight of the Rizzoli brother hurrying down the corridors. She approached the large window of the room where her biological father was unconscious. A nurse was adjusting the dose of his perfusion. The blonde watched the screen that displayed Doyle's vital informations. It was all bips and weird graphics for her.
She made the few steps that separated her from her previous sit, an uncomfortable plastic bench. Maura sat again and did the only thing she could do: wait and worry.
A/N: This is another chapter where I pretend that I know stuff about things, namely medicine. To all the doctors, interns, nurses, patients or any other person who read that and has more knowledge than I do about actual things medical people do are allowed to point their finger at my ignorance and boo me.
In other news, I'm starting to think about how this is going to end. I mean, I know how it is going to end (*insert evil laughter of omniscient writer here*) but I don't know yet if this is going to be one of those long fics that slowly evolves into almost a book or a series of fics, or just a nice journey of 10+ chapters exploring an idea of a story. I will most probably ask for your opinions when we're nearing the ending I have in mind.
I wish you all an exquisite week and a glorious day. Peace.
(some Rizzles in the next chapter, if it makes your heart flutter like it does mine)