A/N: Hey guys! I'm so, SO sorry for the massive break in updates. I have no excuse except for a giant case of writer's block, which, I am proud to say, I shattered today. FINALLY. I also have the next few chapters planned out, and this story has taken a bit of a turn from what I originally had in mind, but I like this idea better :) So without further ado, I present the next instalment :)

(Also, thank you everyone who has so far reviewed, favourited and/or followed the story, you make my day. And also make me that much more determined to get the next update up.)

Maura pulled on the gloves, her face a mask of concentration. Then, nodding to one of the assisting doctors, she turned towards their next patient. Except their patient was awake.

Wild dark hair, angry brown eyes, she was awake and sitting up on the bench that served as a surgical table out here. When she caught sight of Maura, her expression changed from one of confusion to one of fury.

"Get away from me! I don't want you here! I told you! I told you I don't want you around! I don't want to see you! I don't want to talk to you! I. DON'T. WANT. YOU."

Maura sat up in bed, feeling the familiar sting of tears in the corner of her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she read the red numbers that flashed '04:47' in the darkness of her bedroom. Sighing, she simply got out of bed, and began to get ready for the day. She wasn't going to fall asleep again anyway.

It had been two weeks. Two long and trying weeks since the events that had led to Jane being in the hospital, and their relationship in tatters. The bruises had long since vanished, and Maura's voice had regained its usual, if slightly hoarse, register. When Jane had finally been given clearance to leave the hospital, she had come to gather the few belongings she'd brought over when she'd moved in, before being whisked away by people who were there to try and help her. She had barely looked at Maura, let alone speak to her. And Maura could only watch as Jane disappeared up the street and around the corner. Gone.

This wasn't the first time Maura had dreamt of Jane. It was a new visitor to her nights, along with her old nightmares which had returned with a vengeance. It wouldn't be the last either, Maura knew, as she wondered where Jane was and what she was up to. But she didn't know where Jane was, whether she'd been permitted to live in her own apartment, or if she had to go somewhere else where they could watch her and monitor her.

But perhaps the hardest thing Maura had had to do since it all fell apart was face Angela.

It had been just over a week ago, after Jane had cleared out. It was evening, and Maura was deciding whether she had any energy left to make herself something to eat, before succumbing easily to the lure of just ordering something. Few things in her life seemed as easy or convenient as a phone call to that Chinese takeout place anymore. She was just about to dial the number when a soft knock on her door made her spin around. She couldn't think of anyone who would visit her now. Anyone but Jane. A sudden wave of nerves overcame her. What if it was Jane? What should she do?

It took a moment for her to pull herself together again, chastising herself for allowing herself to get ahead of herself. Stepping into the hallway, the silhouette in her doorway was not tall and lean. Not Jane. But it was familiar, and a feeling of dread and apprehension rose up in Maura, as she made her way to the door on feet that were no longer in her control. Fingers, unbidden, fumbled with the latch, and the door swung open to reveal the brunette's mother.

Angela's face was a mask of worry and confusion. When she saw the doctor, she instantly pulled her in for a hug. "Oh thank goodness you're alright." Angela squeezed her shoulders lightly, moving back and looking at Maura. "Maura, what's going on?"

Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Maura had no idea how much Angela knew, and she had no doubt that it was only after failing to get any information from Jane herself that she'd come to Maura. "I…"

Angela seemed to understand. She sighed. "I'm sorry to bother you, Maura. But… I heard. About Jane. Some doctors told me that Jane was in hospital and gave me a very brief explanation, and it wasn't very clear but… oh Maura, no one ever tells me anything. And that's my daughter they have there, but she's always been so stubborn, and never talked to me about anything, I had no idea that she had PTSD. Oh Maura, all I know was that she had an incident of some sort, are you alright?"

Angela's concern for Maura took her slightly off-guard. She wasn't used to such motherly behaviour. "Yes, I'm fine. Really, Angela." She gave the woman a reassuring smile, not sure why she didn't reveal any more about exactly what had happened. Perhaps because she didn't want to worry her. Or maybe because she just didn't want to see her blame herself. Taking a steadying breath, she tried to speak. "How… how is Jane?"

If Angela had looked tired or worried before then, it was diminished in comparison to her face now. She suddenly seemed so much older. "She's… she's trying." The woman avoided Maura's eye, instead looking at the ground. Finally, she looked up again. "Maura… I know something happened between you two… and I don't mean to pry… but…" she trailed off.

"Things weren't working out. That's all." She stopped, trying to keep her voice free of emotion. "Jane and I… we didn't want the same things. I think Jane wanted some time to herself. With… everything… Jane doesn't like to open up and I guess I drove her away…"

"Don't you dare blame yourself, Maura!" Angela suddenly broke in. "Whatever may have happened between you, it was not your fault. It takes two to make a relationship, and if I know Jane, she was the one who ran. And it would've been for her own reasons, and no fault of yours."

The fierceness of Angela's proclamation stunned Maura, and she felt the emotion she'd been trying so hard to bottle up slowly rising to the surface.

"Maura, I don't pretend to know what happened. I never know what happens," Angela's looked tired and sad. "I just know that Jane has… that she had PTSD. And that something happened, and Jane had to go to hospital, and you were there with her when it happened. If I was being honest, that was the only consolation I had, that at least someone I know who cares about my daughter was there with her. And now you two aren't together. I guess I came here hoping for an explanation, or anything really, because I care. About both of you. I just wanted to know you were alright."

Maura just nodded, too full of emotion to respond.

"She misses you, you know."

The words were only a whisper, and Angela looked both embarrassed and mortified that she'd let it slip.

"I'm so sorry, Maura, I shouldn't have said anything. I had no right saying that, I'm sorry."

Maura heard a strange roaring sound in her ears, blocking everything else out. She could only think of the words that had slipped past the older woman's filter. She misses you. Could that be true? Was that really the case? Then reason slowly crept in. Jane had ended things, had made it clear that she did not want to pursue a relationship with Maura. Angela may be projecting her own hopes onto her daughter. There was any number of reasons why Maura shouldn't put any weight on those three words.

But regardless, Maura's own voice betrayed her. "I miss her too."

There were tears in the older woman's eyes, and she reached out to squeeze Maura's hand. "I know we've only known each other for a few months… but you're like my daughter too." Then, with another hug, Angela whispered, "I should go now. Take care, Maura." And she was gone.

It had been an unexpected ending, and Maura had stood there, rooted to the spot for she wasn't sure how long. The surprise visit, the absence of blame and accusation, the presence of warmth and caring… and always, always, those words that haunted Maura more than she wanted to admit.

It had been a shock to her, Angela's reaction. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it had certainly been a very different projection to what had actually occurred. Surely Angela would have been upset with her. Or asked more information of her. Perhaps demanded for a clear explanation once and for all. Instead, the woman had come to check on Maura, make sure she was okay, and even comfort her. Angela had not blamed her for Jane's predicament or for their break up, or anything else that Maura had imagined would happen.

Maybe that was what made it all seem even harder to bear.

The last two weeks were more trying than Maura would like to admit. As she buried herself in her work, putting all her energy and effort into helping the dead, Maura felt herself falling back into her old ways. Cold, distant, professional. Not that she had really warmed up to anyone at the precinct, but still, she had at least been friendly towards the officers and detectives she worked with. But now, with her focus on the job, there was less time, less effort, put into communicating with anyone beyond a polite nod of greeting, and the necessary contact required when solving cases together.

While Maura meticulously stitched up the Y-incision of the body on her table, she found the time to ponder the reasons that had led her into such a career path. It was so easy to help those who had passed through the veil of death; to speak for them, to bring them peace. There was never any uncertainty when it came to helping them, no chance of them taking offence or pushing her away. There didn't need to be any worry about saying the right thing, or doing the smart thing. It was straightforward, factual, scientific.

And lonely. It was that too.

Nevertheless, this had been Maura's life. A cycle of cool professionalism and distance in the day, and solitude at night. The odd function where the rich Boston nobility gathered to compare themselves to everyone else, and ultimately reassure themselves that they alone were the best. Full of fake smiles and posturing. Maura had grown up in this setting, come to understand and expect it as a part of her life. And yet, even then, Maura had yearned for an escape from the expectations of these socialites: getting married to a wealthy man, settling down, and carrying on this pointless cycle to the next generation. Why else had she chosen to become a doctor and join the army?

When she had returned, she'd neglected to contact any of them, and was relieved that they hadn't bothered to reach her either. And in any case, Jane had pushed any thoughts of her old life entirely out of her head, when she showed Maura a world so different to anything she'd ever experienced in her life. Despite everything, there had been a warmth, a depth to Maura's life that had been, until that point, untapped and unknown. Like she'd been living in the dark, and Jane had pulled back the covers to reveal the sunshine.

And now it was gone.

"Hello, Jane."

"Dr Cooper."

The psychiatrist smiled from behind her desk. "Remember, you can call me Riley."

Jane stared blankly past the woman in front of her, not really caring. This was a new psychiatrist, who dealt particularly with army veterans. Especially those who suffered from PTSD. To be honest, Jane didn't care what the story was with this woman. She didn't care about much anymore.

Since she'd been released from the hospital, the first thing she'd done, even before going over to her new place – which would, at least at first, have some form of surveillance to ensure that should another attack occur, someone would be on hand to help stop it – was go over to Maura's and taken her few belongings back. Jane could barely look at Maura, too afraid that seeing the blonde beauty would break her resolve. But she knew it had to be over. In the glance she'd given Maura, she had caught a glimpse of the discolouration on her neck; discolouration that was caused by Jane's hands.

She had sworn to herself that she'd never let Maura get hurt. But despite all her precautions, all her promises to herself, all her boundaries, she'd let herself go. Because being with Maura, knowing that she was liked, maybe even loved, despite the scars on her body and on her soul, was just too wonderful to turn away from. Being with Maura, holding her, touching her and kissing her, it was like flying. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Jane's life was full of ups and downs, it was colourful and not without its incredible moments, but Maura… Maura was the first beautiful thing that had walked into Jane's life in as long as she could remember. And it was stupid, it was completely crazy, that in the few months that Jane had gotten to know the brilliant doctor, she had fallen, quite completely, for her.

But it was too dangerous. Jane was too broken. She was broken, and she was scared that Maura would cut herself on the pieces when she tried to pick them up and put them back together. Hell, she'd already been hurt! Jane couldn't even look at her hands anymore. She hadn't been able to look at them properly since that night. But they still burned. They still burned, and she didn't know if it was because of nerve damage, or because she knew what they had done. Those hands… they have killed. They have hurt, maimed, killed. They should never have touched anything so wonderful, so amazing, so beautiful, as Maura.

Since she'd caught her last glimpse of Maura, Jane had been shipped off to a new apartment.

It was plain. Completely utilitarian. Decked out with the essentials and little else. Her bedroom consisted of a bed, a desk containing a computer and a chair. A small bathroom contained a shower bath, toilet and sink, with a medicine cabinet that was mostly empty. The living room area wasn't large either, containing a surprisingly comfortable couch with a small side table. A TV was set into the wall. The kitchen and dining area were similar in style. Packed with enough to meet needs and some small comforts. But overall, it was sparse and clean.

Each day, Jane was required to go to a session with the psychiatrist. And so, for the last two weeks, she'd walked down the block at 9 o'clock in the morning to the centre, and be welcomed by Dr Cooper into her office. And every day was the same.

From the first session, Dr Cooper had made it clear that Jane could call her Riley. Whenever, and if ever, she felt comfortable to. And so it was that every day the brunette greeted the psychiatrist with the same blunt "Dr Cooper."

Interestingly though, Dr Cooper didn't seem to push her very hard. At least, not the same way that Dr Forster had. Every session went along the same general lines.

"So…" the doctor looked at Jane from her place behind the desk. "How are you feeling today, Jane?"

She shrugged.

"Have you taken any of the medication I prescribed you?"

Jane didn't even bother answering this time. But that never seemed to bother Dr Cooper. In fact, hardly anything seemed to bother the calm doctor. In their first session, Jane had been completely hostile, growling out her answers, snarling at the woman sitting across from her. It was all pointless. One psych hadn't helped her, why should this be any different?

But the woman had barely batted an eye when Jane thumped her fists on the desk between them, didn't flinch when she shouted at her, when the anger and pain and hurt swirled up in Jane and overflowed their boundaries. When Jane had gone home and really let what had happened, she'd been mortified. Embarrassed and horrified that she'd let herself fall in front of this person she didn't even know. She had dreaded the next day, when she'd have to see Dr Cooper again. She'd even considered not showing up at all, but, maybe because of some vestige of the Jane Rizzoli that never really quit, she found herself standing in the doorway of the doctor's doorway again. And Dr Cooper acted as if yesterday had never happened.

Jane now accepted that that was just the way things were going to be. Dr Cooper would ask the same questions every day, and Jane would give her non-answers. Then, when the questions were done, they'd both sit there in silence until the session was up. The psychiatrist would nod at her, say they were done, and that she was free to go.

"Are you feeling up to talking to me about anything?"

Jane snorted. "No." After a moment's silence, she found her mouth forming words. "I didn't want to talk yesterday either. And I'm not gonna want to talk tomorrow. Why are we even doing this? Why am I here?" Jane's hands found the arms of her chair, and she gripped them tightly, so tightly that the familiar ache in them intensified. She caught the doctor's eyes flicking to her hands, and her jaw tightened. "Why. Am. I. Here. All you do is sit there, and ask me the same questions, every single fucking day. What's the point?" Jane could feel the anger inside of her stirring, growing. Her frustration and fury continued to build inside of her as she glared across the desk at the infuriatingly calm woman. Once, just once, Jane wanted to shatter that calm visage. She wanted to cause some tiny piece of horror in her, wanted to make her DO something. "WHY AM I EVEN HERE, WHEN ALL YOU DO IS SIT THERE AND LOOK AT ME? WHY AREN'T YOU TRYING TO HELP ME, LIKE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO? WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT OF THIS? IT'S SO FUCKING STUPID, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST SAY YOU CAN'T HELP ME AND BE DONE WITH IT? WHY. AM. I. FUCKING. HERE?!"

Breathing hard, Jane realised she was standing up and leaning over the desk, though she had no recollection of doing so. Steady brown eyes looked back at her.

Then Dr Cooper did something.

She brought the tips of her fingers together, and put her elbows on the desk. She surveyed Jane over them, a look of consideration in her eyes. She gestured with a hand. "Sit down, Jane."

A part of Jane wanted to continue to rage, but for whatever reason, Jane found herself sitting back down again. She glanced down, and caught sight of a tattoo on Dr Cooper's arm that she hadn't noticed before. Some kind of a fish.

The woman looked thoughtful, before finally leaning forward. "You want to know why we're here."

Jane didn't even nod in response.

"Well we're here for a number of reasons." She held up a finger. "One. We are here because this is my job." She held up her other hand to forestall the predicted outburst from Jane.

"Two. We are here because I can help you." She paused, looking Jane directly in the eye. "But understand this, Jane: I can't help you, until you want to help yourself. Because I can't force you to get better. All of this, it's a mind thing. It's all about your own mindset, and if you can't get on board with this, nothing I do is going to make a difference. Look, I've been through my own hell and back, alright, and I know what it takes. I can keep hassling you, but I'm not, because that doesn't do anything. So I'm not gonna try.

"And three. We are here because I think, somewhere deep down, that you do want to get better. You haven't given up yet. You're not all in, sure, but you're not all out either. You're somewhere in between, but I think that you, Jane Rizzoli, are not a quitter. Even though a big part of you wants to throw in the towel, a big part of you also wants to get through this, because you don't just lay down and give in without a fight. Or how else would you be sitting here today?"

Jane said nothing. Her ears were filled with a sort of buzzing sound, like Dr Cooper's voice was coming from somewhere far off. The words echoed inside her head, bouncing off each other as she sat there in stunned silence.

"I haven't given up on you, because you haven't given up on yourself. You're still here. You're still fighting. Just by showing up, I know you're not giving up, or why bother?

"So I'm gonna sit here, and I'm gonna wait until you're ready to talk. Because until you're ready, we're not going to get far. But I don't think we're too far from that point. I got a bit worried, you know. After that first session you never really got angry again. You cared less. But I think today was enough to show that you still want to fight." She paused, a small smile on her lips, and answered Jane's unspoken question. "You wouldn't have gotten half as angry as you did if you weren't frustrated that these sessions didn't seem to be going anywhere. It's already a step in the right direction. You just need something to push you. Something that's worth fighting for. You got anything like that? Something you want real bad?"

Dr Riley Cooper looked at Jane, a knowing glint in her eyes. Then she glanced at the time.

"I think we'll call it for today. I'll see you tomorrow, Jane. Remember what I told you. Don't give up yet."

Maura turned the page of the medical text she had been reading, focusing completely on the words in front of her. Perhaps that was why she hadn't registered the knock on her door at first. When the sharp tap finally broke through the barrier, Maura looked up.

And there was Detective Korsak standing in her doorway. He smiled politely, but there was something of an understanding look in his eye.

"Sorry to bother you, Dr Isles, but do you have any idea what time it is?"

As a matter of fact, time had completely escaped Maura's attention. She glanced at her watch and, with a start, realised that it was already past eight. She had done such a good job of blocking everything out that she'd failed to realise that the morgue was empty. Everyone had gone home.

"Oh, sorry, detective. I completely lost track of the time."

"No need to apologise," the old man waved it away. "You're the one in charge of everything that goes on down here. But I noticed this isn't the first time you've stayed into the night. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Maura was completely surprised. Though she had exchanged pleasantries with the senior detective, it had always been brief. The concern he showed in bothering to come down to check on Maura was touching. Momentarily stunned into silence, Maura just looked at Korsak. Then she put a smile on her face.

"Thank you for your concern. But really, I'm fine." It was the old line. Physically, Maura was in perfect health.

Korsak nodded, seemingly teetering on the edge of a decision. After a moment, he spoke again.

"I know it's none of my business, Dr Isles, but I like you. Since you've joined the team, we've been closing cases faster than ever. You're great at what you do, but I can't help noticing that, well… something's changed. And I hope I'm not stepping out of the realm of propriety here but, if you wanted to, I'd be happen to listen to ya if you have anything you wanna say, get off your chest, you know."

"How did you know?" Maura blurted out.

Korsak seemed to understand exactly what it was she was asking. "I'm not a detective for nothing."

Maura looked up at the kindly detective. She didn't know what to say. The thought of maybe finally voicing her thoughts to another person, someone who could give their own objective viewpoint, seemed like a wonderful idea. But then again, she barely knew this man, and she had never been comfortable sharing her own thoughts and problems with anyone. The detective smiled down at her, a warm, almost fatherly twinkle in his eye."

"Why don't you and me have a talk, doc?"