A/N: So it's taken me forever to update, but I got here eventually. I greatly appreciate you reviews and PM's, and I hope you all know I got this to you as soon as I could. Only 1 (maybe 2) chapters left to go!
Week 50
Jane's mood was heavy and her thoughts dark as she passed through the main gates of Boston Common.
The weather appeared to be in tune with her feelings; rain saturating the earth and thunder rumbling overhead.
"I can't find a pulse."
She felt like she was walking in slow motion as her boots pounded the gravel beneath her feet. The noise of the tiny stones adding to the cacophony of sounds bombarding the troubled brunette.
"Charge to 300. Clear!"
Lightening forked across the tumultuous grey sky disturbing a handful of sheltering birds, their piercing squawks ringing out as they took to the stormy sky, looking elsewhere for shelter.
An eerie silence following in the moments after.
"No response. We're losing her."
Approaching a familiar sheltered bench, Jane pulled her trench coat tighter around herself as she took a seat.
There was barely a soul in the park. The bad weather and late hour keeping the citizens of her city away. It was as empty as she felt.
Peering out into the rain soaked night, a dark figure approached.
Sliding down the wall to sit beside his friend, Barry Frost reached over, his hand coming to rest on Jane's arm. He hoped it would provide some small measure of comfort.
With no response he peered closely at the woman beside him. She looked like hell. Heck, she looked like she'd been to hell and back several times over. Her face was heavily bruised, her clothes torn in several places, and there was blood on her nearly everywhere he looked. He could feel his stomach start to rebel as he realised the majority of it was Maura's not Jane's. Taking a steadying breath, he realised he probably didn't look much better, but he had at least allowed the paramedics to look him over, and had gotten cleaned up a bit.
Upon arrival at Mass Gen, Jane had refused medical help. Refused any offer to sit or to be moved to a more comfortable area. Wild eyed she insisted on waiting just outside the operating theatre, standing sentinel, waiting for any scrap of news, scant inches from the locked doors she wasn't allowed to pass through, not giving a damn about her own physical pain or appearance.
She had only lowered herself to the floor when standing had become too much for her concussed body to handle.
The updates had been infrequent, and seventeen hours had passed before the surgeon passed through the doors for the final time to speak to the broken looking brunette huddled on the floor.
Umbrella raised, Frost approached at a rapid pace. He looked tired and worn. It was his first day back after the beatings he'd taken two weeks ago, and he'd asked for Jane to meet him here.
Ducking under the shelter, he lowered his umbrella, shaking it out before closing it.
Seating himself beside Jane he took a close look at the woman who had been through so much. Too much.
"It's not your fault, Jane."
No response.
She clearly wasn't sleeping. Dark rings under her eyes stood out prominently on her too pale skin. If he had to take a guess, he'd say she wasn't eating much, if at all, either.
Still, despite her clear exhaustion, she sat up straight and alert, eyes on constant look out for danger.
He'd only been in the thick of it for a week. One week of constant adrenaline, and danger around every corner. The months preceding that final showdown, that final taxing week, had been long. Boston's biggest ever crime wave. They hadn't had a chance to stop, to gather their wits. It had been tiring, trying to connect the dots with only scant information and next to no leads.
He couldn't begin to imagine how Jane felt. She'd been on Intergang's trail for nearly a year now. He may not know the details, but he knew it had been unbelievably trying. Torture, death, self discovery and recovery. Jane had been remade over this past year; and that wasn't even taking into account the emotional and personal downward spiral she had been in the months after the warehouse shooting, Paddy Doyle's death and the break down of hers and Dr. Isles' friendship.
Lesser people would have broken a long time ago. With pride Barry Frost looked at the woman who he used to call partner, and despite the distance between them at the moment, he was proud to call friend. Jane Rizzoli was not most people.
During his time off, BPD had mopped up what had remained of this mess. With Sonty and Scarlet's deaths, not to mention a whole host of others, what remained of Intergang's presence in Boston had quickly fled. There had been numerous arrests. Those of Intergang who didn't clear out fast enough, a fair number of members of the Irish clans, and a whole host of small and first time offenders looking to make a quick buck or take advantage when the city's resources were stretched so thin. There was still a lot of work to do, arrests were still being made, and Barry had spent his first day back chained to his desk processing paperwork for a lot of what had been done over the past fortnight. It was what had prompted him to speak to Cavanaugh then ask Jane to meet him here.
She needed, if nothing else right now, a distraction.
Pushing open the door to Maura's house Jane was greeted with an overwhelming silence. Closing the door behind her, she stood at the entrance to the living room, her eyes falling immediately on the couch. Images of a much needed comforting kiss from Christmas flashed in her mind. The gentle touch of Maura's fingers gliding across her skin, supple lips moulding to her own. Her need for Maura in that moment had been fierce, but now it was crushing, devastating.
Tears started to fall heavily as another memory contrasted heavily with the previous one. Maura's life blood spreading rapidly as Jane did everything she could to stop the free flow of crimson spreading. Willing with everything she had for Maura to live, to breathe, for her heart to keep beating long enough for the paramedics to arrive and fix this nightmare.
Begging, pleading with the woman in her arms not to give up.
It felt like an eternity ago that Jane had watched as the woman she loved pulled a dagger from her chest to save her life from a madman. Her eyes kept flicking to the stairs, hoping for the EMT's to come barrelling down them. Maura's whimpers of pain had been a constant, but they paused as she caught Jane's eye. Her laboured breathing the only sound as Jane paused in her continued attempt to keep the dying woman in her arms conscious.
Hazel and brown connected, and for a moment everything was okay. Then as Maura's eyes drifted shut, an eerie inhuman wail left Jane as she felt Maura's body still beneath her.
Shaking her head, as if to will away the memory, she moved through the house making her way to Maura's bedroom. Heart pounding, she pushed open the door. Her senses immediately bombarded with all things Maura.
Sitting on the bed, Jane noticed a framed picture of the two of them together. She didn't know if it had always been there, or if it had recently been put there after their reconciliation, but it made her heart ache. Reaching out, her fingers brushed over the smiling honey-blonde. The picture had been taken during a far simpler time, and Jane wished she could turn back the clock. Wished she could forget what it felt like as her blood slick hands pushed down on Maura's chest ardently willing it to beat once more; or what it felt like to fill Maura's lungs with her own breath.
Frost cleared his throat, snapping Jane out of her haunting memories. "You looked like you were elsewhere then."
"I was."
Jane didn't elaborate. Frost didn't ask her to. It wasn't needed.
"Any si-" He was cut off before he could finish his question. "No."
His head hung for a moment. He thought that would be the answer. He knew Jane would've have called or not come at all if the answer was anything else but no, but he still had to ask. Sometimes false hope was better than no hope.
Jane was starting to look restless, no doubt she was wondering why he'd asked her here today. He was struggling to find a way to start the conversation, when Jane spoke up giving him the perfect segue.
"How was your first day back on the job?"
"Non-stop. Paperwork from start to finish." The two former partners shared a grim smile. Like most people, they hated the paperwork portion of their job. "With all the arrests we've been making everyone's been spread kind of thin." Jane nodded her understanding, then frowned as she watched her friend squirm.
"Spit it out, Frost. Whatever it is you're trying to figure out how to say, say it."
Shaking his head at Jane's ability to read him so well he took the plunge. "I spoke to Cavanaugh today. About you." He continued nervously as the face he was looking at remained impressively impossible to read. "Like I said, we're stretched thin, and we need all the help we can get right now. Come back to BPD. There's a desk job waiting for you. Then as soon as this has all passed you can re-qualify. Please."
Jane listened impassively. She could see the hopeful look in Frost's eyes, and she felt bad that she wouldn't be giving him the answer he was hoping for. "Listen Frost, now's not a good time."
"It's the perfect time, Jane. You can't spend your life sat in a room hoping things will change. I get that your hurting, I do, but you're wasting away. Maura wouldn't want that."
Fury flashed across Jane's face for a moment, then crushing grief before settling back into its previous countenance. "I just can't, okay? I don't know if I want to go back. I'm not that person anymore."
With a look of bleak acceptance, Frost acknowledged to himself that that was probably the best he'd get from her. At least tonight. Still, ever the optimist he spoke once more. "Just think about it. The offer's there, and I can tell you now things haven't been the same since you left. Even Crowe said he missed you."
Frost smirked as Jane lifted a sceptical eyebrow. She was about to respond when her phone started to vibrate. Reaching for it she peered at the screen, not recognising the number she warily hit the answer key. "Hello?"
"Hello? Is this Jane Rizzoli?" The voice sounded familiar, but the crackle of the line, and the pounding rain made it difficult for her to really hear the person on the other end of the line.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"It's Dr. Carey." With the name came recognition. She knew this man well, had had countless conversations with him of late. Her heart pounded in fear of the unknown, and suddenly the raging storm over Boston had nothing on the whirlwind of emotions rushing through her own body. However, before panic had its chance to really take a hold of Jane the doctors voice cut through into her consciousness.
"Did you hear me Jane? I said she's awake. Maura's awake."
