The machines that had been lightly purring earlier near Clementine's incubator were whirring aggressively when Jane had finally reached the child's room. From the saddened looks of the nurses and interns, she had been expecting a funeral dirge as soon as she opened the door. Silence and muted artificial light met her instead.

The doctor from earlier stood near the incubator, carefully adjusting the rapidly beating machines. Maura sat in a crumpled heap, holding the baby's small lifeless hand with a clenching grip. From across the room, Jane could feel an answering sensation in her own hand. She also wanted to desperately hold onto Clementine and fight for her, give her the strength she needed. It wasn't fair for a helpless, defenseless child to be taken away from them. At least, not like this.

Quietly, Jane made her way toward the incubator, knowing what she would find there. Clementine's husk of a body left to mourn over. She prepared herself for the pain that promised to come. Don't make me see this, Jane thought, her feet slowly taking her forward.

"She's not dead, Ms. Rizzoli," the doctor whispered, turning to face Jane.

Jane sighed in relief. "Thank god. I was worried. With all of those texts you were sending me, Maura-"

"But she has taken a turn for the worst," the doctor said matter-of-factly. "In a situation like this where she was already touch and go… It is a death sentence."

"What?" Jane asked bewilderedly. "But I thought you said we could do the surgery? I don't know where we're going to get the money but…do it. She still has a chance."

"No, she doesn't." The doctor walked over to Jane and sat her down next to the still blonde. "While you were gone, Clementine started having troubles breathing on her own. By the time we got the oxygen sufficient in her incubator, I noticed that she was experiencing heart failure."

Jane slumped awkwardly in the seat, feeling all of the energy in her body evaporate. Heart failure…wasn't that like a heart attack? How can a baby have a heart attack? Is that…even possible?

"Heart failure…" Jane sobbed.

"It happens in these types of cases. By itself it isn't inherently fatal if treated correctly but, honestly, heart failure is the least of Clementine's problems at the moment. They all add up to a body working overtime just to keep working properly," the doctor sighed. "There's no way we can move forward with the surgery. She's too weak. If we take a chance and move forward there's no guarantee Clementine won't die on the operating table."

Jane reached out to grab Maura's hand. It trembled weakly in her grasp. Knowing how affected Maura was and how she tried to hide it nearly brought out her own tears. Their eyes met, speaking to each other with a level of intimacy only lovers could share.

Do something for her. She's going to die.

I don't think I can.

I love you… No matter what happens.

I know. I love you too.

The doctor watched the two women silently converse with each other, waiting for them to finish. Clementine's small slightly blue body twitched slightly inside the incubator, her small mouth forming the words she couldn't speak. Mama Jane. Mama Maura.

"We can still perform the surgery."

Jane grimaced. "What if we wait? Until she's stronger."

"There's no point. Her heart failure and other ailments are a direct result of the persistent truncus arteriosus. One is causing the other. If we wait…Clementine's body is just going to keep getting weaker and weaker until," he looked away slightly, "we won't be able to keep her alive mechanically."

A sob broke from Maura's lips, the first emotional response to the doctor's words she had made. Jane continued to hold her hand, offering Maura the only form of comfort she could.

Jane's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Is she…in pain?"

"We're trying to keep it to a minimum but...yes."

"Then that's our decision," Jane whispered hoarsely. "Stop her… Stop her pain. It's not fair to…try and keep her alive just because it's easier on us to keep lying to ourselves."

"You do realize what that means?"

Maura clutched Jane's hand with a sudden amount of force. There was no need to say what they were both feeling as they continued to gaze upon their little Clementine's body.

"Yes, I understand. We understand. There's no use fighting the inevitable," Jane sobbed, silent tears starting to fall.

With a nod, the doctor looked at the two women with a straight face.

"Would you like to say your goodbyes?" he asked, his hands already moving toward the various apparatuses that were keeping much needed oxygen flowing into Clementine's lungs.

Maura stood up from the chair quickly and ran out of the room.

Jane's face fell in response, her slack-jawed expression almost comical. "Maura…"

"Grief is a complex emotion," the doctor said, picking his words carefully so as not to offend. "What about you?"

"Umm…your mommies love…loved you a lot. More than we should have." Jane moved to give one last tussle of hair poking up from Clementine's head. The baby gave a weak smile in response. "I wished we…could have had more time together. You were really starting to grow on me. And…um…we'll miss you a lot."

"Mama…Maura…," Clementine croaked out.

"She…had to leave, sweetheart. Seeing you like this was all a bit too much for her."

Clementine's eyes opened slightly. "Mama," she called out weakly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…for not being able to save you, Clementine," Jane whispered, trembling with the effort to remain reserved.

The doctor politely stepped toward her hunched over frame. "This isn't your fault."

"But it is," Jane chuckled bitterly, taking her hand away from Clementine's incubator for the last time. "I made the choice to let her stay with us even though I knew that Maura could get hurt. And now…now this is happening. If I had just called social services to begin with, all of this could have been avoided. So, yeah, this is my fault, doctor."

With a sigh, Jane turned away. There was nothing more she could do. Her main focus had to shift toward something she still had some semblance of control over, Maura. As she exited out of the large doors, the rapidly whirring sounds of life coming from the medical apparatuses ceased, causing a sympathetic pang of utter misery to ring throughout her heart.

All of the life within her body seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but a cold shell in its place. Jane had dealt with victims who had lost a child before but never had she experienced the unbearable pain for herself.

So this is what it feels like…to lose a child.

Suddenly, a strong gagging sensation overwhelmed her. The only thing on her mind now was to find a bathroom before a bunch of medical interns saw the tough-as-nails Detective Jane Rizzoli vomiting on the linoleum floor.