A/N: I'm so sorry about the drastic delays with uploading this story. I honestly got discouraged from writing this because I wasn't sure where to go with it or how to spin in. Given the fact that I haven't updated this story in such a long time, there are some things that I included that are no longer in the story line. I decided to keep Susie Change because I just absolutely adore her and for some reason I added Kent, though I don't know if I like him or not. Also, I will be uploading another chapter right after this one because my loyal readers deserve that. Before you begin reading, I kept this chapter in Maura's point of view. Why? I haven't figured that out yet. Here it is, Chapter 8. I don't know if I'm going to keep this one up, I don't really like it to be honest with you all. There will be some plot twists and I don't intend on making this more than I don't know 15 chapters? Maybe more, I'm undecided.

On my final note: Enjoy and happy reading!

Her scream haunts you. It's the most earth-shattering scream you've ever heard from her. It's unsettling, it shakes you to the very core. You swore that you heard her scream your name when he came for her. The panic that immediately set in when he said he always gets what he wants. You have this feeling that it's the end, that he'll really kill her this time. You pray uncontrollably for hours even though you don't believe in God or some other higher power. You rely on the universe to give you signs. They're subtle but they're there.

You see her mother through the window watching everything unfold, you admire this woman. She's endured so much since her two children are detectives for the Boston Police Department. If she could survive all of this, you can too. You watch as her mother stands there stoically. What is going through her head, you wonder? This woman doesn't cry, she doesn't scream, she just stands there, waiting, hoping and praying. Praying that her daughter comes home safely, unharmed but deep down you know that isn't true. You continue you to watch Angela. She makes your heart melt. The love of a mother. Something you have yet to experience. You know that Jane will come back more destroyed than ever. You pray that she comes home without any emotional damage but that won't be the case. This will be the thing that breaks you both.

You never told her how you felt about her. You love the way her hair hangs around her face. You enjoy the comfort of her scarred, calloused hands that hold you when you're scared. You just love her, but she doesn't know that. She doesn't know that you want her wake up with you in the morning, read the paper and enjoy breakfast together. You want to take her on dates and spend a hefty chunk of change to give her everything that she wants. You want her to sneak kisses when you watch movies on the couch together. You want her.

It won't matter anymore; she's not coming back. Physically she may come back, but you know emotionally she won't recover from this. You could spend thousands of dollars on therapists, but you know she won't go and if she did then she wouldn't say anything other than, "I don't need a shrink, I need a shower and a cold beer." That's Jane. The most stubborn pain in the ass woman that you've loved for nearly seven years. Dumbass, you should have told her you loved her sooner.

Jane would openly mock you for using profanity or calling the kettle black, but you pretend that you don't know what it means because the sound of her voice is the most beautiful thing in the world. You never want her to stop talking. You want her here, no, you need her here. She completes you.

Rizzoli and Isles. It fits perfect, you surmise. She will come back to you, she always does.

You and the team spent ten hours going through files that haven't changed to try and find the key that unlocks this whole mystery. There are many crumbled papers, thrown paper coffee cups, a few glass ones too. Angela came and brought dinner, no one really had the appetite until you suggested that Angela would feed it to them. Angela looked around the BRIC and saw that you're the only one eating. She's been down this road before. She brings dinner to the station during times of tragedy especially when it came to her children; she expects you to eat a good home cooked meal during a difficult time. They've learned to just go with it and eat while they work.

There is nothing that you found in those files that could help you find her. She hasn't called, nor has he to let you know if she's dead or not. You get an idea but decide against it. You want to talk a walk to clear your head and hope you find Jane just casually walking the streets, but you don't. Something is holding you back from taking that walk, but you can't figure it out.

You walk down to the morgue, no new bodies. Something catches your eye on the printer. There are results of a blood specimen that the boys found before CSU got there. Unfortunately, your analysers don't tell you whether there's DNA just toxicology. You noticed a high amount of blood, enough to run a DNA profile. You know whose DNA it will be, but you run in just in case. The test will take a few hours to get a full profile, you need to be thorough, clear headed. You have a feeling, a gut feeling as Jane would say, even though you know you think with your brain and not your stomach.

You have a hunch to run a genetic profile and look for defects because something in the back of your mind tells you that there is something off with this whole scenario. You decide to run the profile, it will take a little bit longer than the DNA profile, again you already know who the DNA belongs to.

The phone rings in your office. It's someone you thought you'd never hear from again. Casey Jones. He tells you to turn on the television and he hangs up the phone. You turn on the tv in your office and turn up the volume, more than you intended to. The interns watch silently from the doorway to the office. They're horrified but they understand why they spent over 24 hours working.

Now to your top headlines, Boston Police Department's own Detective Jane Rizzoli appears to have been kidnapped by a ghost. Charles Hoyt, serial killer and necrophiliac, kidnapped Detective Rizzoli in what seems like a never-ending battle between cat and mouse.

Susie Chang starts to cry and excuse herself, but you stop her. You walk up and engulf her in a bone crushing hug. You never show emotion to your interns but today it was needed, you're human. The interns wrap themselves around each other.

A few hours later, the test results come back. As you suspected the DNA was indeed Charles Hoyt's, but the genetic testing catches your eye. There was a genetic marker for an antiphospholipid syndrome, Asherson's. It's very rare and incurable. This was something. Then you look back through the rest of the blood from all of his other crimes and nobody mentioned this before. Every other blood sample had high samples of heparin and other medications used to treat this condition.

You run upstairs to the BRIC and you see everyone slumped over in their chairs, exhaustion taking its toll on everyone. Maybe this information could wait until tomorrow when everyone gets some solid rest. "Charles Hoyt has a genetic condition!"

Everyone perked up, eyes all on you now. "Charles Hoyt has Asherson's Syndrome."

"How does that help us?" Korsak snapped unintentionally.

"This condition requires IV therapy treatment and he would have to see a specialist."

"I hate to burst your bubble Maura, but Hoyt is a doctor and he could probably treat it himself."

"Theoretically he could, but the medications required to treat this are complex and would incapacitate him for a length of time. Constant titrating of medications, he would need constant blood work and scans. I highly doubt he would have that kind of access to equipment required for this rigorous course of treatment."

"What exactly is Asherson's anyways?"

"It's a rare autoimmune disorder that rapidly produces blood clots in multiple organs in the body. It's the most severe form of APS or antiphospholipid syndrome."

"Wouldn't we have known that Hoyt had this condition when we first started to investigate him?"

"Not if he saw a doctor that kept it off of his records." Korsak spoke.

"I took another look at the other blood samples that we had of his and I didn't notice the medications in the results. I can't believe I overlooked something like that."

"Hey doc, give yourself a break."

Something catches your eye, it's Rondo. Rondo hadn't been around in years, subconsciously you wonder when he would end up on your table, but this relieved your nightmare. He was standing here in the flesh, so to speak. "Dr. Maura Isles, you are one fine woman." He'd put on some weight and he was cleaned up.

"You look great Rondo! How've you been?"

"I'm fantastic, I started playing music again. I'm off the streets and I've been helping people get off the streets too. I'm sorry about… Vanilla." That's when you notice the package in his hands and how nervous he was. "This is for you."

You take the package and you eye it carefully before opening it. It feels cold which is odd. You pull up the bag in the box and your eyes go wide. "Rondo who gave this to you?"

"A man and a woman. She gave me the box and he gave me two hundred dollars."

"Maura what are those?"

"They're vials of blood. I need to get these back to the lab. Did you recognize them?"

"Who wouldn't recognize them? It was Vanilla and the Surgeon."

Rondo's statement hits you like a ton of bricks. She was alive. You hear Frankie start to question him, but you tell him to stop. You call an intern to come get the blood and have a full genetic profile run as well as testing it for Asherson's. "Did she seem okay? Where did they hand you the package?" You have loads of questions, but you can only manage those two right now.

"They gave me a specific set of instructions. They handed me the package and the money and told me wait one hour before giving it to you guys. He said that the blood shouldn't have clotted yet because of the ice and to shake the box a few times so it wouldn't. She seemed really calm and so did he. Her pupils were normal, and she looked relaxed, but they were in a hurry. They both ran down the street and I tried to follow them, but they were gone." You look at him with concern, "Doc, she looked okay and I picked up a few things watching you at crime scenes and I lived on the streets for a long time. I know that look of fear in people's eyes, it wasn't there. I don't know how to explain it."

This was good, it was a start. You see Frankie call for Nina, and she begins to look at surveillance footage from around the area, checking the toll roads and the turnpike.

After a few hours of searching, the team turned up nothing. You're still waiting to hear from the lab about the blood work. You see Nina and Frankie with their faces in their hands and you decided to take a look at the footage yourself. You can see the two running towards a building and then they were gone. You didn't catch a license plate, a car that they could've been in, nothing.

The phone rings at Jane's desk and you picked it up. "This is Dr. Isles."

It was Kent, "I just got the results back from the blood work you sent down."

"Hold on I'm putting you on speaker. Frankie, Nina, come here." You switch the phone to speaker. "What did the results say?"

"The DNA profile is a definite match, but the genetic profile doesn't make any sense. You said that Hoyt had Asherson's correct?"

"That's correct."

"The genetic profile doesn't match the blood from the crime scene from your bedroom."

"That's impossible." Korsak scoffed. "Charles Hoyt kidnapped Jane, got sloppy and left evidence this time!"

"I'm just telling you what I found. The DNA may be Charles Hoyt's but it's not the Charles Hoyt you're looking for. The only thing I found in today's samples were a mild Vitamin B12 deficiency and Vitamin D."

You ponder for a moment, but Frankie speaks up in anger. "Great. So, Hoyt has another apprentice. Fucking fantastic."

Korsak spoke up. "Dr. Isles, and Kent I could use some answers here. How is it that someone can have the same DNA but doesn't have the same condition? It seems impossible."

You let his words sink in. You think of all the medical possibilities. Surely you would have read somewhere about someone being able to transfuse someone else's DNA into another person, but nothing is clicking.

You hear Kent take a deep breath over the phone before he answers. "It's nearly impossible, I don't know what could explain it. Even if something like this were happening anywhere, we would have heard about it."

You finally made the connection. "Hoyt has an identical twin."