A/N: Hey guys, guess what happens when your laptop gets smashed on accident and your whole un-backed-up story is stuck in it... yea... I lost my whole original story. But, lesson learned and I have begus re-writing it. I can't guarantee it is as good as the original but it has the same premise. Good to be with you guys again. Welcome to chapter 11!

"She was sitting in the furthest corner of the sofa, Luis laying across her lap, sleeping. She was just staring. Broken. I had never seen her that way. I knelt in front of her and just looked into her eyes. She wouldn't look at me. I looked at Luis and at her hands clutching him. I knew she broke the windows, I knew she put the hole in the wall but my breath caught when I saw her hands. Bruised and bloody. I thought her right one might have been broken. And when I tried to touch it she pulled back and balled her fist. I flinched. I was scared. I was scared of her. I was scared of what she might do. I was scared of what she was feeling and thinking. And I think she was, too. She was out of control. I think the only thing that was keeping her together was the baby. I knew it wouldn't be long before DCF got there to take him. And above all, I was scared for that moment."

"I never meant to do that to you." She turns into me when I speak, the side of her face pressing against mine still on her shoulder. "That night..."

Nothing in my body has come to terms with what happened. I am angry. I am devastated. I am everything that I don't know how to feel. Maura is fighting sleep at her desk and Korsak's head is in his hands in Maura's spare chair. There's going to be shrinks and media and internal affairs and… and the Chief. God, the Chief.

I still remember when they put Frost with me. He looked like a child and puked like one, too. We were back logged, our M.E. before Maura was a mess, and I was overdue for a day off. I was very aware of his intent to go FBI. He didn't want homicide and I didn't want him. I raised nine kinds of hell that they didn't ask me before sticking him with me. Because I would have said no. So I walked into my Chief's office like it was the most natural thing to do and I told him that I was not going to train someone so incompetent and squeamish and new. And my Chief looked at me, still orienting himself to my effrontery and said, "maybe he isn't the one who needs the training."

At the time I thought it was some comment about my barging into his office or a snide remark about being back logged. It took a few years for it to hit me. Frost was well liked. Fun, funny, gentle, witty. He was a person first and a detective second. That's why the bad scenes always got to him as much as they did. That's why he cared so much. I lost my ability to be a person for a long time. Until Frost. He brought me back.

"Detective's Korsak, Rizzoli… Dr. Isles…" A man's voice booms through the open door and Maura jerks awake. She and Korsak stand.

Korsak greets the man. I tune out the formalities but his electric blue uniform gives him away. State Police. Maura offers her hand and stands between us. When he tries to step around her to address me she cuts him off. And I know that she is shielding me. When she speaks she is sweet but stern. Quiet. "Detective Rizzoli will be participating fully in your investigation, Captain, but as you can see, the child victim is present and still very fragile. I would appreciate if you would allow the Department of Children and Families to remove him before putting Detective Rizzoli through this again." Maybe she wasn't shielding me. She was protecting Luis.

He stands studying her, looks to me, then back to her. "This is time sensitive, ma'am." When she turns back to me I drop my head, avoiding her eyes. I stand slowly, handing the baby to her. The next two hours are full of statements and blood tests, gun-shot residue swabs and voice stress analysis tests. I didn't even fire my weapon but they treat me like a suspect. I know the purpose. It isn't like the movies where someone gets shot and the screen cuts away to the good guys sharing a beer. The good guys don't always win.

Internal affairs has been waiting outside while State Police finish with me so when they are done he comes right in. I tell the story again. Take another lie detector test.

"I am sorry about all of this, Jane. I hope that you know this is protocol." I shake my head. "One last thing before I release you…" I realize in his silence that I have not made eye contact with him since the interview began. I look at him for the first time, "Detective Frost has no living relatives. The department will take care of the expenses for the funeral, of course, but his headstone wording, his memorial flag…" he pauses… "well he has no one to…"

"He has me."

He half smiles and nods.

I meet Maura where I left her. I am surprisingly relieved to see that DCF is here. "Jane, honey…" She reaches out to touch my arm, Luis sleeping in her left. I pull back and away from her touch. She apologizes without saying a word. "I thought you might want to…. Do you want to hold Luis before DCF takes him?"

I study her for a minute before turning and responding. "No."

"Jane, I just thought.."

"No… Maura…" She turns and hands the child to the worker, speaking just below my earshot. I roll my eyes and lay on the sofa, folding my hands over my abdomen and closing my eyes. I know it feels like I hate her. And I might. I feel like I might combust and her constant worry and softness is too contrast to how I feel. It is foreign. I am angry with her. Because I am angry with everything. I take a deep breath and hold it and try to clear my head. But I am hit with the vision of Frost. Laying in my exact position. My eyes snap open. "It should have been me." All eyes in the room look toward me. I feel them.

"What?" Maura's voice is harsh. I look at her, her features foreign and sharp.

"I said it should have been me." I stand and run my hand through my hair on my way out of the door. She follows me out of the room and I walk faster to lose her. The click of her heels alerts me to her persistence. I want to hit something and I don't want her to see it. I don't want her to be it. "For fuck's sake, Maura. Leave me alone."

"I won't."

"Jesus… what part of leave me alone do you not understand?"

"What part of I am scared to leave you do you not understand?" She is screaming. "You can push me away all you want, Jane. But you need someone. You need someone to make sure…" She doesn't finish.

"If I promise not to eat a bullet will you back off for a fucking minute?"

She stares at me for a moment but nods her head. I unholster my weapon and hold it out to her. When our hands touch she wraps her fingers around the gun and my hand and pulls me into her. I have to clench my fists to keep from pushing her away. Her body pressed against mine, the comfort, it makes my blood boil. I don't need her comfort. Her love. And the fact that I have it, that Frost never never will, it makes me feel sick. Guilty. And angry. She lets go quickly and I spin away from her, leaving her in the hallway.

"Jane do you need a break?" Maura wipes at the tears that have collected on my cheeks and the counselor's words shake me from my memory. I shake my head no.

It has been two days. I have been alone. Even Ma is staying away. The hole that I put through my bedroom wall when she showed up the morning after might have contributed to her distance. She has called me 30 times between that night and today. She has left voicemails and sent text messages. She knows I am ignoring her but I justify it by leaving my phone in the bedroom and sleeping on the sofa. I technically don't have my phone. Maura has called, too. Each time I hear her tone I see the picture in my head. The one that I took when she was sleeping. The one that has adorned my phone screen since that night. When I hear the soft knock on my door I know it is her. I ignore it. She came and left once before when I would not answer the door. I spent more time than I should analyzing which hurt more, her leaving, or knowing that I hurt her by pushing her away. I expect the knocking to stop and for her to leave. I don't know how to let her see me like this. I feel broken and inadequate. And I don't know how to be who I was to her. I am a mess. Everytime I think of her I see how I have treated her. And it reminds me that I have failed. I have failed her. Like I failed Frost. But she doesn't leave.

"Jane, sweetheart, I am coming in." I almost tell her no. Almost. The dip of the sofa behind me tells me that she sat at my back. My face is buried in the cushions of the back of the sofa but I smell her perfume. She rubs my back. Every touch meant to keep me together just serves to tear me apart. My shoulders shake. I can't catch my breath. Maura's soft touch hardens and she slides under me, cradling me against her. I make a weakened attempt to push away from her but she holds that much tighter. Everything in me screams against the comfort. Guilt. Shame. I feel weak in her arms. I am supposed to protect her. I was supposed to protect him.

"Jane, can I do anything?" I shake my head. "Talk to me. Please." I shake my head again. She pulls me closer.

"I let him die."

"You did everything you could, Jane."

"I'm so sorry" I sob and clutch her shirt. "I'm so sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't save you." She knows that I am talking to him. She shushes me softly and holds me tighter.

"Sweetheart… it was his turn… to be the hero."

Her words rolled through my mind. I tried to find a hidden meaning, someway that she was blaming me. But they were calming. I closed my eyes.

I woke up to my phone alarm. It had been plugged in on the side table next to a note.

"I'll be back at 8:30. Your clothes are in your room. I love you, Jane."

I am sitting with my elbows on my knees on the sofa, staring at the clock on my phone when she knocks. 8:30 exactly. I almost smile.

She pushed the door open slowly, keys in hand, purse clutched under her arm. She is in black and her hair flows past her shoulders. She is immaculate. She sees me and stops, unsure. I am too. So I stand and straighten my clothes. I slip on my heels.

"Thank you for the clothes…and the alarm."

"You're welcome."

"You look really nice."

"Thank you. So do you."

"Thanks."

"…Are you ok?"

"I don't know."

"I'm here."

I don't answer. But my right hand reaches for her. She places hers on top, passing her thumb over my fingers. And I don't want to pull away. Yet. For a moment I allow myself to think about her touch, her kiss, her hands on me. But the guilt aches in my stomach and I shake my head clear of the thoughts. I don't notice the silence because there is none in my head. I don't notice her methodical comforting touch. I don't even notice her struggle to find the right words.

"I'm worried about you, Jane."

The first words in my head are angry. The next rude. The next sarcastic. I bite my lip.

"I just need a little time. I'll come back. To you."

The service is regimented. Everyone has a place, everyone has a task. Everyone but Frost. His pictures are displayed throughout the grounds. There is a podium. Behind him. I don't see the casket. I choose not to. And I don't see him. Our Honor Guard stands watch over him, rifles armed. He would be so proud of the procession. He liked order. He liked neatness. He liked honor. There are over 400 officers here showing their respect. Most he never knew. But all were his brothers.

Various members of the department pay tribute to him. Some stories are re-told. Some funny. Some somber. I lose myself in thought for the briefest of moments before Maura taps me on my knee. It is my turn. I stand, straighten the fabric over my lap, and walk on stage.

I open the paper I had clutched in my hand. And I look at him.

"Good morning. I am Detective Jane Rizzoli. Barry's partner." His first name sounds strange in my head. I look up. Maura nods. "I want to start by saying that nothing that is said here today, any story told of my partner's life, his service, his sacrifice, can even come close to conveying how much he is loved. How much he is respected. Even in his death. Nothing that I can say can make you feel even a part of what it was like to have him in our lives. To hear his laugh, again. To see his smile, one more time. I'd trade it all. We all would. He was the best man…. He was the best man I have ever known. And I will miss him dearly.

And though Barry is not just a number, not just a fallen officer, we all know that the reality is that he is one of many. Somewhere in this town, somewhere in this state, there is another officer who is on a scene, pulling over a car, kicking in a door. And he is scared. All of his senses are on alert and he is scared. But he will stay. When everything in his body is telling him to run. He will stay. And he will fight. And he will win. He will be a hero. He will stay not so that he can be a hero, but because he already is one. My partner is that hero.

Before you leave today I will ask one thing of you. Of all of you. Don't let his death be forgotten. Fight the fight. Do good. Save the world. One perp at a time. Avenge this loss with more fight than you have ever shown. Fight for Barry and the hundreds of officers who lose their life each year in pursuit of good and honesty. Fight for the good guys. Because Barry believed in a world where good guys still win.

Please know that Barry died doing what he loved. Doing what he was made to do. He died so that others may live. And he will live on, through each of us. Barry Frost is my friend. My partner. My hero. And he will be. Forever. Thank you."