Chapter 41

Outside Jane's I.C.U. Room – Wednesday at 9 a.m.

"Team Meeting," I announce. Once everybody gathers, I begin, "Armstrong, Martin, and I will be on the morning shift. And Darlene, Harvey, and Sanders will take the evening shift. Twelve hours shift. Six a.m. to six p.m."

They all nod, and I continue as I glare at Sanders, "And if anything gets past you Sanders, I'm going to bloody shoot you myself."

I hear Harvey mumble, "Not if I shoot him first."

The only thing Sanders says is, "Understood."

"Good, go back to Dr. Isles's home and get some sleep. She's given her the okay for us to use her three guest rooms. Keep a close eye on the house while you're there," I order.

All three say, "Yes, sir."

They leave, and I continue, "Neville, you're Detective Rizzoli's bodyguard till this is over. And she better not give you the bloody slip like she did Sanders. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Who are you going to assign to her when I'm off shift?"

"Harvey."

"Great, I was going to protest if you said Sanders," Armstrong answers with disdain. I understand why he doesn't want Sanders anywhere near his charge. Armstrong considers Sanders's mistake to be unforgivable, and he's right. Sanders didn't do his job.

"What about Dr. Isles? She's proven to be incredibly resourceful and intelligent, and I do not doubt that if the detective would run off, she'd try to incapacitate us again to go after her. The detective is right; Dr. Isles is a genius. These women are bent on keeping each other safe," Martin says.

"I still can't believe she was able to run off on us. From what I was told, Dr. Maura Isles never breaks the rules. Bloody hell, she breaks out in hives if she tells a white lie," I answer honestly.

"I think Dr. Isles will break all the rules if it means protecting her love. If she hadn't run off on us, the detective might bloody well be dead," Martin explains. I think she is correct. Both these women will do anything to keep each other safe. And Martin is also right in; if Dr. Isles hadn't run off on us, the detective would have probably bled to death.

"If something were to happen, I think we would need to confiscate her medical bag and keep eyes on her at all times. We can't allow the story to repeat itself," Armstrong answers seriously. And Armstrong is right too. No more escapes of any bloody kind.

"I agree, but I need you to keep your eyes on Rizzoli at all times," I order.

Armstrong nods, and Martin asks, "What if they get another text message?"

"We can't confiscate their phones. I'm positive Constance Isles would fire us then; it's a miracle she hasn't yet. We're dealing with a B.P.D. Homicide Detective and the Chief Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. They need to work so that we can end this bloody nightmare," I explain.

Before I can say another word, a nurse walks up to us with another flower delivery. More pink roses. Dean. Bloody ass. When is he going to get the bloody point?

I softly knock on the door because Dr. Isles must be told.

R&I

Jane's temperature has greatly improved. It's at 101.3, but the cold compresses and antibiotics seem to be doing the trick. Dr. Grace came to see her an hour ago and was happy with her progress. The antibiotics will continue to be administered for the next two days, but she expects Jane to make a full recovery. When the nurse came in to change her bandages, I asked if I could do it. The nurse agreed because I'm an M.D. and because Dr. Grace agreed.

After I finished, the nurse gave Jane her pain medication, and now she's comfortably sleeping. She looks better than last night. I hardly slept because of the worry. I don't care about sleep right now; all that matters is Jane. When Jane goes home, I'll try to make it up. I don't know how I'm going to work. Jane only listens to me, and that's why I won't leave her. I'm afraid she's going to try to overdo things and compromise her recovery.

Jane Rizzoli can be incredibly stubborn and hates it when she's hurt. A soft knock on the door brings me back to the present. I wonder who it is. Mother said she wasn't coming back till noon.

When I open the door, I'm greeted with a scowling Mr. Armstrong and a pink rose flower arrangement. I close the door behind me and feel a headache coming on. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I ask, "Let me guess, another delivery from Dean."

"Looks that way, Dr. Isles," Mr. Grant says.

I take the card, and my stomach goes into a knot. A tight, painful knot. It's a picture of a naked Jane. The bastard must have taken it the one time they slept together. Even though I know that Jane didn't cheat on me, which is part of Dean's plan to break us up, it still hurts.

God, does it hurt.

I crumble the stupid photograph in my hand and try my hardest to keep my composure. Tears want to roll down my face because of how much it hurts. I hate that he's even laid a finger on her and absolutely despise the fact that he got the opportunity to make love to her.

"What would you like us to do with the flower arrangement?" Mr. Armstrong softly asks.

"I want it out of my sight. Take it down a floor and drop it off at the nurse's station with the instruction that it is to be given to one of their patients," I softly order. Mr. Armstrong nods and walks down the hall to the stupid flower arrangement.

God, I want to scream. I think I hate Dean.

Ms. Martin brings me back when she says, "Dr. Isles, don't let Dean get to you. The detective loves you."

"I know that. Dean sent me a picture of a naked Jane, and that's what has upset me. Jane slept with him once almost five years ago. I doubt that even Jane knows of its existence," I explain as I look away. I'm too upset to make eye contact.

"Bloody bastard," Mr. Grant angrily says.

"Try not to let him upset you. He's trying to sow strife in your relationship with the detective," Ms. Martin says.

"I know that, and thank you. I'm going back in with Jane," I mumble as I go back into the room. They're right. Dean is trying to break us up.

I wish it didn't hurt.

R&I

"This is not good. It's obvious that Dr. Isles is terribly upset by stupid Dean's stunt," Martin says.

"Next time, I'm going to let him cross the line so that I can bloody tear him apart," Armstrong growls.

"If the detective catches Dr. Isles in tears, she'll beat you to him, Armstrong," I say as I rub my temple. God, I bloody hate this. Dean is such an ass, and someone needs to teach him a lesson.

I need to call Constance Isles. She needs to know what is going on.

Jane's I.C.U. Room – Wednesday at 9:40 a.m.

This time when I wake up, I feel better. I don't feel as sweaty and hot as last night. But my arm still hurts, but I guess that's to be expected. I immediately look for Maura. She's standing by the window and seems to be lost in thought. She's hugging herself, which is not good, and she's clutching something.

I softly ask, "Maura baby, are you okay?"

Maura immediately comes to my bedside, and as she grabs my hand, she murmurs, "I'm fine, love. How are you feeling?"

"Better, not as hot as I was last night, but my arm still hurts," I honestly answer.

"Mm, that's to be expected. Your temperature is still a little high but so much better than last night," Maura says as she looks away from me. Okay, now I'm getting worried. No, eye contact is always a bad sign.

I squeeze her hand and softly order, "Maura, look at me."

When she meets my gaze, I ask, "What's wrong?"

She bites her lip and mumbles, "Nothing is wrong, Jane."

"Hives, Maura, hives. Please tell me what's wrong, baby," I plead.

Again she looks away, but at least she hands me what she was clutching in her hand. I frown, and when I smooth out the paper to see what it is, I see the problem and begin to feel hot. That son of a bitch took a picture of me the one time we slept together. I crumble the stupid picture again and say, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't know the bastard took a fucking picture."

"I figured as much," Maura says.

God, she looks hurt, and if it were the other way around, I wouldn't be happy either. I think I've hit my limit. I grab her hand again and apologize, "Maura, I'm so sorry that that bastard hurt you. I think I've had enough. I want to see him put him in his place finally."

"I know I shouldn't let it bother me. But it still hurts," Maura whispers.

It's official. I hate Gabriel Dean.

I beg, "Take the railing down and come here."

"Jane, I don't want to hurt you," Maura says.

"Baby, come here, please," I plead again.

To my relief, she does as I ask. I wrap my good arm around her, and she snuggles into my side. I kiss the top of her head and say, "I'm so sorry he hurt you, Maura, baby. I don't understand why he won't leave us alone. But I think I've hit my limit. I want to confront him and tell him to leave us the fuck alone because if he doesn't, I'm going to hurt him."

"He showed up at 1 a.m. the first night you spent in the hospital," Maura whispers.

"Baby, you should have told me," I softly answer. That son of a bitch.

"It was a crazy night. Angela also showed up that night too," Maura shrugs.

"I'm so sorry you have had to deal with crazy people," I apologize. God, having to deal with her crazy parents isn't enough; no, she also has to deal with my crazy people too. I'm out of patience, and the next time I see Frankie or Korsak, I'm going to order for them to arrest Ma if she shows up here again. I'm done.

"It's not your fault Jane," Maura softly says.

"Ma showed up last night again, right?" I ask. I hate that my brain feels foggy.

"That's right," Maura answers.

"Is Dean still sending his stupid flowers?"

"Yes."

"Enough is enough. I want you to call Frankie and tell him to call Dean and tell him I want to speak to him. And I'm going to tell Korsak and Frankie to arrest Ma if she comes back to the hospital," I say.

"Love, maybe you should worry about Dean and Angela later. I'm okay, and you need to rest and concentrate on your recovery," Maura pleads.

"I can't allow him to continue to hurt you, and I've had more than enough of Ma," I argue.

"I feel better, and I'll order our shadows that if more flower arrangements show up, they are to donate them to the hospital and trash the card. I doubt Angela will be back. Vince and Frankie threatened her with arrest," Maura says.

I pull her closer and whisper, "I'll wait, but as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to have it out with both of them."

"Ok."

"I love you, Maura."

"And I love you," Maura whispers back.

"Baby, go tell our shadows to knock if anyone tries to get in here. We both need rest, and you need to sleep in a bed at least for a little while," I say.

"But Jane," Maura begins to argue, but I cut her off with, "Sleep baby, we both need sleep. Come on, go tell them to knock if someone wants to come in."

To my relief, Maura does as I asked. When she returns, I ask, "Can I have a kiss?"

She simply smiles and gently brushes her lips against mine. I manage to cup her cheek with my good hand and deepen the kiss. I don't stop kissing her until the need for oxygen forces us apart. I can't help but grin at my handy work. Her lips are kissed swollen; she's flushed and trying to catch her breath. But more importantly, she has a smile on her face.

I open my good arm, and she joins me in bed. I pull her in close, and she snuggles into my side again. I wait until I'm positive she's asleep. And it doesn't take long; she's sleeping in minutes. My poor baby hasn't been getting the sleep she needs. I will have to speak to Constance and see if she can help me convince her to go home to sleep at night.

I kiss her head and let sleep overtake me.

Outside of Jane's I.C.U. Room – Wednesday at 11:45 a.m.

I'm going to get Dean fired if it's the last thing I do. But I won't take that final step until I speak to the girls. Once I'm on the I.C.U. floor I make way to Jane's room. Aldrich meets me halfway down the hall and says, "They're both asleep."

"Are you sure?"

"I checked on them myself. They're both sound asleep on the bed," I reassure Constance.

"Good. Maura is exhausted but refuses to leave Jane and hardly sleeps in that recliner they have in the room. I just hope they don't get caught because I don't want Maura to get kicked out of the .," I say.

"Armstrong knows the detective's medication schedule. So he'll wake them before the nurse goes to the room," Aldrich says.

"Great."

"What are we going to do about Dean, Constance? He's escalating, and he upset your daughter terribly," Aldrich explains.

"I think Maura has every right to be upset considering what he sent her. I want to get him fired and hopefully have Jane get a restraining order against him. But I won't take that step without discussing it with the girls first," I explain.

"Getting him fired might make things worse. He's going to be furious if you get him fired," Aldrich warns.

"I know that, but I don't know what else to do," I say in frustration.

"Why don't you try to get him reprimanded by the F.B.I., to begin with, and have him banned from making any contact with the detective," Aldrich offers.

"Do you think that will work?"

"Well, it might work. When Dr. Lewis tried to get him reprimanded, she failed. It might get him to stop once he sees that the F.B.I. isn't going to let him continue to get away with his harassment of the detective," Aldrich says.

"Okay, I know that if I get him fired, things might get a lot worse. But he still needs to know that he can't keep harassing the girls. Jane has made it very clear she wants nothing to do with him. And I'm determined to teach Agent Dean the meaning of the word no," I say.

"He deserves for someone to teach him some manners. Armstrong has volunteered," Aldrich smirks.

"If he shows up again, tell Mr. Armstrong to teach him the meaning of word," Constance smiles.

"Come on, let's go get some coffee. Why wake them up? Both need the rest," Aldrich says.

I nod, and we walk towards the elevator. I turn to Aldrich and say, "Maura has forbidden me from eating at the hospital cafeteria. Something about it being covered in germs. Luckily there's a coffee shop on the corner."

Aldrich smiles and says, "Lead the way."

I hope the girls are still asleep when I get back.

Jane Rizzoli's I.C.U. Room – Wednesday at 1:55 p.m.

A soft knock on the door is what wakes me. I groan in protest, but I open my eyes. It must be time for Jane's medication, so I carefully disentangle myself from her and get off the bed. I put up the bed rail and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I look at my watch and estimate I slept for almost four hours, but they've been the best four hours of sleep I've had in many days.

This proves my point. I can't sleep without her anymore.

My thoughts are interrupted when the nurse comes in. She smiles and takes Jane's vitals. When she takes Jane's temperature, a look of concern falls on her face. Crap. I quickly ask, "What's her temperature?"

"103.6. I'll bring in the ice packs and page the doctor," The nurse says and walks out of the room.

I don't know how I couldn't see it. Jane's sweating again, and her face is flushed. Obvious signs of a fever. I shouldn't have gone asleep; I should have been looking after her. I would have caught the fever sooner.

Mother now joins me. When she sees Jane, she asks, "She's burning up again, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"Has the doctor been paged?"

"Yes," I answer. I'm trying to stay calm. Jane's on antibiotics, and the Ibuprofen has lowered her temperature. I don't understand why she's burning up again. This isn't good.

"Darling, we're going to take care of this," Mother says. I know she's trying to soothe me, but I'm an M.D., and all the worse scenarios are going through my head.

The worst is that she might die.

"If I hadn't been sleeping, I would have caught the fever sooner. I shouldn't have been sleeping. I should have been looking after Jane," I say guiltily. I need to keep my head in the game. My only concern is Jane. Nothing else manners.

"Maura, you can't function on zero sleep," Mother says.

"I know that, and I'm trying to stay calm, but this isn't good, Mother," I answer as I hold my love's hand with both of mine.

"The doctor seems competent. I'm sure she'll take care of this," Mother answers confidently.

"I really hope so," I say.

Our conversation stops because the doctor walks in. She greets us and begins her examination. My love sleeps through it. When Dr. Grace finishes, she says, "I want to treat this infection aggressively. I'm going to stop the current antibiotic and start her on two new ones. Both are stronger than the first. We'll continue with the Ibuprofen and the ice packs. And see how she responds."

I nervously ask, "What if she doesn't respond?"

Dr. Grace says, "You're an M.D. I don't need to tell you what it means if she doesn't respond to the new antibiotics."

"It would mean she has contacted an antibiotic-resistant bacteria," I admit. If this is the case, this would be bad, very bad. She can die.

"I checked on her test results, and what she has is a treatable staph infection. I'm going to order more blood work and see what they tell us. Let's take it a day, by day. We'll start her on the new antibiotics and do everything we can to lower her temperature," Dr. Grace says.

I nod, and the doctor reassures me, "Your detective is strong and healthy. We'll get this under control."

"Thank you, Dr. Grace," I smile.

Mother also thanks the doctor, and then we are alone. She then asks, "Do you know of a better hospital that can treat her? I don't know. A hospital that has experts in viruses, infections, bacteria. Just say the word, and I'll have her airlifted out of here, darling. I promise you; she'll get the very best care."

I grab my love's hand again and explain, "Hopkins has more experts in that field, but I don't want to move her yet. Let's see if the new antibiotics work. If there's no improvement in two days, we'll transfer her to Hopkins."

"Okay, darling, let me make some arrangements in case you do decide to transfer her to Hopkins," Mother says.

I smile and say, "Thank you, Mother. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Mother smiles and comes over to me and hugs me. And to my surprise, I take comfort in her embrace. In the past, I didn't like to be touched when I was upset. But since Jane came into my life, that slowly changed. Mother kisses my cheek and says, "You don't have to thank me, Maura. I love both of you very much. Both of you are my daughters as far as I'm concerned. I'll take good care of both of you. Jane is a fighter; she'll make it."

I smile and nod. Mother kisses my cheek one more time and walks out. I turn my attention back to Jane, and to my surprise, she's awake. I take her hand and softly ask, "Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

"My arm really hurts, and I'm hot and sweaty again," Jane whimpers. She's really sweating and looks miserable.

"I'm so sorry, my love. We'll get you feeling better soon. The nurse is working on getting you the new antibiotics the doctor ordered for you, and I'll make sure she gets you your pain medication. It's time," I explain as I kiss her palm. I then push the call button again. I need the icepacks.

"I heard some of what the doctor said. How bad is it?" Jane softly asks. The look in her eyes breaks my heart. She's clearly afraid.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You just need stronger antibiotics. But you're going to need to be a good patient for me. We're going to have to use a lot of ice packs to lower your fever. We must get your fever under control," I explain as I kiss her hand and keep an eye on the door. I'm praying the nurse comes in loaded down with icepacks and all the medications Jane needs.

"Am I going to be okay?"

"Of course you are love. I promise," I promise passionately as I kiss her hand. And I'm willing to do anything to keep my word. I refuse to lose her.

She gives me a small smile and whimpers, "The sheets and gown are sticking to me again."

"We'll get them changed again, my love. I'll take good care of you," I smile.

"I don't think I can help like last time. My head fields foggy. I guess it's the medicine, right?" Jane moans.

"You're on pretty strong pain medication. That's what's making you feel groggy. But it's okay, love. The nurse and I can change your sheets while you're still in bed, and I can change your gown on my own. Just relax and sleep, sweetheart. Hopefully, when you wake up, you'll feel better," I say.

She squeezes my hand as her eyes close; she whispers, "I love you, Maura baby."

"And I love you more, now rest, sweetheart."

A couple of minutes later, the nurse came in, and to my relief, she was loaded down with everything Jane needs. First, the nurse set up the IV antibiotics and gave Jane her pain medication. Then she gave her a higher dose of Ibuprofen. The Ibuprofen made me nervous. I just hope it doesn't give her a stomachache. Once that was done, I told her that Jane wanted her sheets and gown changed.

It took us 20 minutes to get the bed changed and for her gown to be changed. She left the ice packs for me to apply and told me she would be checking her every hour. I simply nodded, and I was finally left alone with my love. Now that she's resting comfortably, I can take a minute to get myself together.

I take out my phone and call Frankie. He needs to know what's going on.

B.P.D. Homicide Bullpen – Wednesday at 3 p.m.

I just hung up from Maura, and the news isn't good. Janie has a serious infection, and she's burning up. If Paddy Doyle weren't already dead, I'd kill him. Korsak comes over to my desk and asks, "What's the matter, Frankie?

"I need to get out of here. Janie isn't doing well," I say as I stand up and grab my coat.

"Wait, wait, tell me what's wrong with Janie, Frankie?" Korsak quickly asks. It's obvious he's very concerned. Maybe even a little scared.

"She caught an infection. They detected it last night and began treating it, and at first, Jane responded to the medicine. But right now, she's burning up, Korsak. The medicine stopped working," I explain.

"Fucking Paddy Doyle, I'd kill the son of bitch if he was still alive," Korsak growls.

"My thoughts exactly. But I need to get out of here. I want to talk to the doctor that's treating her and take care of Maura. The last thing we need is for her to collapse or something because she's not getting the rest and nourishment she needs," I say.

"You're right. It would be a disaster if something would happen to her. Jane would never forgive us. She expects us to take care of Maura," Korsak acknowledges.

"I'm out of here. I'm taking my laptop and files to work from the hospital. Tell Cavanaugh what's going on, and I'll call you if there's any change in her condition," I quickly say as I pack my laptop bag.

"Go, and I'll be there, and I'll be there at six with Maura's dinner and yours," Korsak orders.

"Thanks, Vince. See you there," This is the last thing I say before I walk out. I hope Janie gets better. I don't know what I'd do without her.

F.B.I. Boston Field Office – Wednesday at 3:33 p.m.

"Are you sure she's burning up?" I ask my contact at Mass General.

"Of course, I'm positive. Her nurse is my friend and she's the one who told me her patient isn't doing well," My contact explains.

"Okay, thanks," Is all I say and hang up.

I'm out of here, and this time I'm not leaving until I see Jane for myself.

A/N: To all my readers, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read and for all the reviews, follows and favs. I need time to write so I'll be gone for about ten days. But I will return as soon as I can and finish the story.

See you soon!