She remembers the day he realized that no amount of pride would keep her from walking out. She pushed herself up to her knees, licking the spot on her lip where he'd hit her, already tasting blood.

He'd backed up a little, and his face had cleared of the mad, disconnected rage it sometimes possessed.

They looked each other in the eyes.

And he knew.

"They won't let you take my kids," He'd said, without any preamble. They were on the same page, he knew it. "They think you're unstable and that you never recovered from Hoyt. They think you can't be trusted, not really."

"I won't ask," she'd snarled back. "We'll just go."

"It'll break your mom's heart. Frost will be devastated, partner-less. We'll never stop hunting you."

"I'll never stop running. I'd rather raise them like hobos than have them grow up around you for one more second.

He'd looked at her for a long second, and then turned on his heel and left.

The next day, she stops at the daycare to pick up Riley, and the teacher who oversees pick-up tells her that Casey has already been to pick up her son, Kara in tow.

Jane breaks the sound barrier getting home.

No one is there.

For six, long, agonizing days, she waits. She dials her mom, who tells her not to get hysterical, Casey is a good father, and he probably sensed she was over-stressed.

She dials Korsak, hangs up.

She dials Frost, hangs up.

When they return, both children unhurt except for a new and lingering fear (mommy wants to be without us sometimes. Sometimes mommy doesn't love us.), She cries like she has not cried in years.

He is not as gentle as he could be that night, but he is also not as rough as he has been. When he is close, he pulls out and flips her over, on to her stomach. It is a move that makes her feel small and vulnerable. Weak.

"This is the beginning," He says. "You're mine. This is only the beginning."

It is four days later when the first murder by Hoyt's apprentice is committed.

…

…

Jane and Maura sit together at one of the Picnic tables behind the clinic, watching the little group of children play on the jungle gym.

Well, Jane is watching her children. Maura is sneaking discreet glances at Jane, trying to figure out a way to ask (again) if she can look at her injuries.

After their first visit, the little family returned two weeks later, and then again less than a week after that. They never stayed more than 72 hours, and Jane was never much more forthcoming, but Maura was there all three times, and she was the one to see to Jane's various cuts and bruises, and that last time, a broken pinky.

She discovered that ten year old Kara was an avid reader, that she wanted to be a veterinarian, and that she possessed an almost eidetic memory. She was guarded, like her mother, but Maura could talk about medicine and make her light up.

Riley, more of an enigma, never liked to be far from his mother, but on their second visit, he'd thrown a tantrum big enough to shake the tiny mirror in their room.

He'd caught his mother in the jaw with a wildly flailing foot, and through the door, Maura heard him scream at her. You're a stupid cunt. You don't love us. You leave us behind.

Maura had been glad to be all the way down the hall when Jane burst out of the room. She'd watched from a distance as the brunette leaned against the wall, hand over her mouth, eyes shut tight.

And then, just when Maura was getting used to their presence, and had come to see them (however unfortunately) like a routine presence in the clinic, they had disappeared for almost three months.

At first, Maura had been happy. Although she wanted to see Jane again, she'd been glad that the other woman had not returned. She hoped it meant that they'd gotten out.

She hoped it meant that the abuse had stopped.

But no. Here they are, side by side after more than three months, and although Jane has no visible marks on her this time, she holds herself on the bench in a tight, cautious way. Maura had seen her enter, walking slowly enough that there could be no mistaking her for healthy.

"Doctor?" Jane's voice makes Maura start.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I was just thinking."

Jane looks away. "Oh. Okay."

"No," Maura clarifies, "I didn't mean I don't want to talk. Were you going to ask me something?"

Jane is silent for a moment. And then, "do you ever go down a road, thinking you'll be able to come back anytime you want, and then..." Jane makes a vague gesture with her hands. "You wake up one day, and all of a sudden all of the things you thought you would get around to changing, all of the things you thought were under control just…" she trails off looking down at her hands.

Maura looks down too and finds herself looking at scars that she hasn't noticed before. Jane has identical scars on the palms of her hands.

Scalpels Maura thinks, and then directly after that, she thinks of Jane's insistence that they not go to a hospital on her first visit to the clinic.

Jane sighs. "I don't know," She says. "Never mind."

But Maura nods quickly. "Yes. I know exactly what you mean," she says.

Jane glances at her. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Maura assures her. "I convinced myself for a long time that what I wanted was unreasonable. I tried very hard to be happy inside of a life that wasn't only dangerous. It was just not the one I was supposed to be living."

She doesn't usually speak about her own circumstances, but the moment seems to call for it. Jane seems more open than she usually is. More open and much, much sadder.

Jane turns her head to look fully at Maura, but she doesn't say anything. Maura gazes back at her, wondering again at the deep expressiveness of her eyes.

"Did you get away?" Jane asks finally, turning her attention back to her children. "Did you find
the right path eventually?"

"Yes," Maura answers. "I did."

Jane nods. "Good," she answers.

"You could too, Jane," Maura says quietly. "It's a possibility. A real one."

Jane almost smiles. "Yeah," she says, though her tone holds no inflection. "Without them."

"No," Maura says firmly. "With them. Whatever he's told you-"

But Jane looks sharply at Maura, her expression one of surprise and abject fear. "He who?" she asks, voice louder than usual. "What are you talking about."

Maura shakes her head. "No-no one," she stammers. "I…I only meant-"

But Jane stands stiffly. "It's dinner," she says, with a glance at her watch.

"Jane," Maura stands too, she puts her hand on the other woman's shoulder, a risk that she must take. "He's a liar," she whispers.

Jane looks at her hard, face impassive, and Maura repeats herself, wishing she could bury the words in Jane's body like seeds.

"He's a liar."

Jane turns from her. "Dinner!" she calls to her children, and as they run toward her, Maura sees the other woman break into a real, genuine smile.

It is contagious enough to make Maura smile too, if just for the moment.

…

…

"I can't believe you did this. I can't believe you would do this, Casey. You almost cost me my badge!"

"No, you almost cost you your badge. I didn't tell you to go spouting crazy stories to your boss. I didn't tell you to make insane claims, and sound like a paranoid nut job."

"You told Riley and Kara I didn't want them. You told them I'd told you to get them out of my sight."

"And as your loving, supportive husband, I did just that. I know that all of this stuff with Hoyt is getting to you, baby, but you really need to learn how to relax."

"You let him out. Casey, he killed a woman. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Are you so cold that-"

"You left me, Jane. You walked out. I told you there would be consequences. I told you that we hadn't begun to tap the surface of what I'm capable of. You heard me say that, and you walked out anyway. So, from where I'm standing…you killed a woman. Not me."

"I stopped him. Again."

"You stopped something that could have been avoided in the first place."

"If I'd stayed with you. If I stay with you."

"You're mine."

"You don't even love me, Casey. I'm not even sure you like me. I promise not to tell anyone, or say anything bad about you, but you have to let us go. I can't-"

"Right. So you can shack up with some lesbian, and make me a laughing stock?"

"…What are you talking…where did you get that?"

"For a cop, you suck at hiding things. Under the mattress? That's the most obvious place for a diary."

"It's not a diary. Give it to me. It's-"

"You're right. At this point it reads more like erotica. What do you think Kara's teacher would say if she knew you wanted to sit on her face?"

"It doesn't say that! Give it to me, please!"

"It might as well. What do you think Pop would say. If he knew these were his daughter's real desires?"

"Casey. Please."

"Oh, no, don't cry, Jane. You are ugly when you cry. I don't want you ugly right now."

"What do you want?"

"Come to bed. I'll show you."

…

She finally agrees to an examination, when Maura comes to check on her after dinner. The kids are in the common room, watching Big Hero 6 with a couple other temporary residents, and Maura finds Jane in her room ("212 again," she joked. "Home sweet home.") sitting in the middle of her bed, Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hands.

After three minutes of careful, calculated prodding, Jane turns from the doctor and puts the cup onto the side table. She pulls her shirt over her head.

Maura has to look away in order to gather herself.

Jane sits facing away from her on the edge of the bed, like always, except now she is dressed in only her jeans and her sports bra. Her back is patterned with bruises, and as Maura draws closer, she sees that some of them are not bruises but bite marks. Someone has bitten her hard enough to bruise, hard enough, in some places, to break the skin.

"I'm going to come a bit closer, okay?" Maura asks. She waits until Jane nods before she moves.

"Like I said," Jane says wearily. "There's nothing you can do for it this time."

"These are bite marks," Maura says, unable to help herself. "Someone bit you, Jane?"

The woman doesn't respond. She takes a deep breath in, and her shoulders rise and fall heavily

"Jane-"

"Please," Jane cuts her off, though her voice is not sharp, or accusing. Just exhausted.

"Okay," Maura says softly. "Okay. I'm sorry." And without thinking about it, she lowers her head and presses a kiss to the bite mark that lies high on Jane's shoulder. It is chaste, but it still makes the brunette shudder.

"Don't," she says, but there is no conviction in the words. She presses backwards, just the slightest bit, into Maura's hands.

"Arnica," Maura replies. "It will help with the pain."

Jane shakes her head. "I don't need it."

"There's no reason to bear this, if you don't have to," Maura reasons.

Jane hesitates, and then speaks quickly, in a rush. "It makes it harder," She says, "It makes it harder to go back. She ducks her head as though she's ashamed.

"And I do have to go back," She adds. "I know you don't understand. But I have to go back."

Her tone rings with such finality, that Maura doesn't feel like she can argue, no matter how much she'd like to.

…

…

Rizzoli Sunday is Jane's least favorite day of the month. She bundles the kids into the car, double checks Riley's booster seat and then climbs into the passenger seat as Casey starts the engine.

She is thinking about Maura, from the clinic. Thinking about how gentle her hands had been, pressing disinfectant to her back, making little 'tsk' noises as she went, like she cared about the skin underneath her fingers.

"Mommy?" Riley pipes up from the back seat, "Do you think it will snow this weekend?"

Jane blinks herself back to the present. "I don't know," she says, trying for the same excitement she can hear in his voice. "If it does, do you want to build a snow fort?"

"Yeah!" Riley says. "That'd be pretty cool! Will you help, daddy?"

Casey smiles into the rearview mirror. Riley looks like his father, Jane thinks, though his grin is still genuine, without any sign of a sneer.

How long will that last? She wonders.

"I dunno, my man," Casey says. "When I built forts back in the day, they were always no girls allowed."

Riley frowns.

Jane sees Kara look up from her book. She recognizes the cover with a jolt. It is one that Maura had pressed into her hands the last time they were out at the clinic. A book about a teen prodigy veterinarian, and her many adventures.

"What do you mean?" Riley asks slowly, still trying to work out his father's words. "Like, mom couldn't come in?"

"Well she's a girl, isn't she?" Casey answers.

This seems to be news to Riley, and Jane can only sit and watch, helpless, as this realization breaks over her son.

"Yeah," he says after a moment's hesitation. "I guess she is."

"So you can build a fort with mommy, and have it be no girls allowed," Casey says. "But you can build one with daddy, and we can put my paint gun on the top for defense."

Jane grits her teeth to keep herself from saying what they'd agreed upon when Riley was born. No guns, AT ALL, until he's twelve.

But Riley is warming to the idea very quickly. "To keep out the girls!" he says.

"Now you're getting it, son!" Casey says proudly.

"So no fort for me?" Kara pipes up. "Or do Mom and I build our own fort?"

Jane has to restrain herself from turning around in her seat to look at her daughter. Kara hates the winter, she hates being cold, and Jane can count on one hand the number of times she's seen the child voluntarily play in the snow.

"You can come in our fort, Kara," Riley says kindly.

"Buddy," Casey says patiently. "Kara's a girl, like mommy."

Riley considers this for longer. "But also," he says. "She's my friend."

"Mommy's not your friend?" Kara asks, as though she knows that Jane wants this question answered more than any other.

"Course she is," He says, and he turns his still baby face to her and smiles. "Love you, Mommy!"

Jane nods until he finds her voice. "Love you, Rye."

Casey isn't smiling anymore.

…

The main reason that Jane hates Rizzoli Sunday is because of the number of people. She can't keep track of her children as well as she'd like, and she can't keep track of Casey at all. He flirts with her mother, and buddies up to her father.

Frankie even seems to like him, laughing gamely at his joke about women drivers.

Jane is sidetracked by Tommy's new girlfriend Lydia, who wants to know all about Tommy as a little boy, and so she isn't able to intervene when Angela asks Kara about her book.

There's nothing she can do when Kara shows it to her and says it was a gift.

"Oh, your mother spoils you," Angela says with a smile.

"That's not from Mommy," Riley says helpfully. "That book is from doctor Maura."

She can feel her husband's interest sharpen from across the room.

There is nothing she can do.

"Doctor Maura?" Casey asks. "Who is this now?"

Kara looks at Jane, her face full of worry and fear. She is too old to be lied to, Jane realizes. She is too smart and too observant, and she knows that Maura and the clinic are a secret, and now she is afraid.

This is Kara, nine years old, entering into adulthood.

And this is Jane's fault too.

"She's the doctor Mommy goes to when she's sick," Riley says, still too young and too helpful. "She makes Mommy stop crying, and then we play on the jungle gym and eat cereal, and watch cartoons."

"Wow," Casey says. He has not even looked in Jane's direction. "I'm glad Mommy has someone to talk to."

Kara keeps looking at Jane. Her chapter book pressed tightly to her chest.

…

…

It has been a week and a half since Jane was in room 212 at the clinic, and Maura is having trouble thinking about anything or anyone else.

She is distracted enough that even Susie notices, tentatively asking her what's wrong after Maura files the same patient report for the third time.

"I'm thinking about Jane and her kids," Maura says. "Her injuries this last time were more extensive."

"More rage," Susie fills in.

Maura nods, and is about to tell her RN about the bite marks, when the bell that signals the front door goes off, and both women look around.

The man that enters is medium height, tall, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. As he approaches the desk, Maura thinks there's something familiar about him, but she can't put her finger on what it is.

"Hello," He says, stopping in front of them with a precision that indicates a military background. "I'm looking for a Dr. Maura Isles?"

Maura glances at Susie. "That's me," she says, stepping forward. "How can I help you?"

The man regards her for a split second longer than normal before offering his hand. "My name is Corporal Casey Jones, and I've been sent by the Weymouth Police Department to request your assistance."

"My assistance?" Maura raises her eyebrows.

"Yes, Ma'am," the corporal says. "The detectives are searching for an unbiased medical opinion of one of their suspects in custody. He's a known serial killer and rapist, and on his deathbed, he's offered up confessions." The man stops, and looks appreciatively around the waiting area. "The detectives who sent me here to request your help said that you are the foremost authority on cases of abuse, the psychology of the abused, etc."

Maura studies him. He is so familiar, though she's sure she's never seen him before in her life.

"When would my presence be needed?" she asks. "I'm on call here until tomorrow morning."

"At your earliest convenience, Ma'am, since you'd be doing us a great favor." He hesitates. "Although I should tell you that he does have stage four cancer and is probably not long for this world."

Maura sighs. "I see."

"Doctor," Susie says tentatively. "Why don't you go now? I can cover until you get back, and Pike is just a phone call away."

This makes Maura sigh more heavily.

"I will make sure he doesn't say anything too insensitive," Susie says with a little smirk. "If it could help some people get some closure," she finishes.

And Maura nods, looking back to Casey Jones, who is fidgeting slightly, shifting from foot to foot. She frowns at him. Something about that movement…

"I assure you, Dr. Isles," Casey says, breaking into her thoughts. "I will be there the entire time to ensure," he clears his throat. "Your safety."

Maura thinks briefly about Jane. It has been twelve days since she was last here. She nods and turns for her coat.

"Susie," she says, "text me if anything that Pike can't handle happens, okay?"

Susie nods, looking knowing. "Like if Jane shows up," she says.

Why deny it? Maura pulls her coat on, giving Susie a meaningful look. "Yes," she says. "That especially."

She turns back to the Corporal, whose smile has gone slightly hard around the edges. "Lead the way, sir," she says, and with that, She follows Casey Jones from the clinic and to his car.

If she notices the hardcover children's book on the floor mat in the back, she doesn't register the name.