"Hey Frost, it's Riley. I'm not sure where you are, but I got that info that you wanted. Eileen Brown lost her son Kieran Jr. in a shoot out with police when he was 15 years old. But here's the weird thing, Frost, I did some digging, and the ruling on the death is suicide by cop. I mean, this kid had no priors, not even a truancy record. I mean...he was as clean as they come, and then he just decides to rob one of the banks on Boylston with the most security and the fastest response time? Nah, Frost. I don't buy it.
"I'll keep looking into it, okay? And as for Eileen? She and three year old McKenzie moved to Mission Hill...got a cheap rent. As far as I can tell they've been there ever since. I hope this helps. I'll call you back if I've got anything else."
...
She shouldn't go in.
She is supposed to wait for back up, supposed to wait for her partner, and intel and then even when back up arrives she is not supposed to go in, not unarmed and not when it is unclear what is actually going on inside.
But she pulls up to the dingy apartment in the half light of the morning, and all of the lights are on. It's three in the morning. A bad sign. She jumps out of the car and reaches instinctively for her gun, before remembering that is is gone. McKenzie has it. She feels momentarily naked, even in her bulletproof vest and with her nightstick. She registers momentarily, subconsiously that she might rely to heavily on it, before heading towards the front of the house, not bothering to quiet her footsteps.
It's just another reason that she shouldn't go in. A scared, trapped teen with an automatic service weapon. But she creeps up to the outer door of the building and pulls it open slowly, intent on only listening, and she hears the screaming. She hears screaming and yelling, and the sound of a teenager crying (a sound she knows well) coming from deep inside the first floor apartment, and all rational thought is wiped from her mind.
She should not go in, but she prays that Maura has called for help and that it is coming quickly, and she kicks the inner door open and hurries down the hallway.
...
...
"Hey Frost...it's Riley again. Hope that everything's cool. Your phone has been off for a while now. Anyway, I managed to pull the first report of the interview when the police brought Eileen Brown in to question her about her son. Logan did the interview, and he reported she was wailing about how Kieran Jr. had just found out about his biological father. His report says,'mother noted that she and the suspect had argued the night before the attempted robbery, and that suspect had told her that she was to put him out of his misery in order to save his sister.' But there's no mention of this in the final report. You know how suicide by cop is portrayed in the media. The shooter was ex-military, purple heart, etc. It would have looked pretty bad...So...I don't know if that helps you at all, but I thought I should call. Hit me back when you can."
...
...
They taught her the ropes in tactical twenty years ago, with a refresher every five years. She takes stock of the room the moment she rounds the corner, automatically registering the number of people in the room and the number of potential and actual weapons.
There's McKenzie, gun down by her side.
There's Eileen, standing with her hands out, and her eyes wild, facing her daughter and doing a lot of screaming.
And there is the boy, curled up in the corner behind McKenzie, his head buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
"You're lying!" McKenzie is crying. "You're lying. And I hate you."
It's Eileen who notices the detective first, and as her wide, manic eyes take Jane in, McKenzie turns too, and her face seems to cave in on itself.
"NO!" she says desperately. "Get out of here!"
Jane puts her hands out too, trying to show that she is unarmed and non threatening. Tactical 101, except this time there is no one out on the street to listen for the gunshot. There is no SWAT team waiting for her safe word.
"I can't," she says quietly. "McKenzie. I can't."
...
...
"Maura, it's Frost. We're en route, okay? Text me back when you get ahold of Angela or whoever and are on your way. If Jane is right, then we're about to have a clusterfuck on our hands. I've got SWAT, and three cars on the way. Do you know if Jane took her radio? Or even her phone? Not like I even know if it's safe to text her. If she got in, and McKenzie's got the gun. If Jane's too late and she decided to use it...I mean...Shit that was stupid of me. Never mind. She's going to be fine. They're going to be fine.
"Look, just let me know if you're on your way okay? We've got EMTs, but if Jane...when Jane gets McKenzie out of there, we both know it's you she's going to want to see. Hit me back."
...
...
"What was that?" McKenzie swings the gun at Jane wildly, and the detective's hand goes automatically to her waist, where her phone is buzzing.
"It's my phone," she says more calmly than she feels. "It's just my phone."
"Who is it?" McKenzie tilts the gun back towards her mother, who puts her hands back into the air.
"Honey," Eileen tries, but McKenzie glares at her.
"I told you to shut up!" she yells. "I don't want to hear any more of your stupid lies."
Elieen clamps her mouth shut, but her eyes wander curiously over her daughter, and the hard metal of the gun in her hands. She looks transfixed rather than scared.
"McKenzie," Jane says slowly. "I'm going to answer the phone."
"No!" the teen says quickly. "You can't."
Jane puts her hands up, showing her the iphone in her left. "I have to, hon. It's my partner, and if I don't answer, he's going to think something is wrong, and then everything will get much more complicated. I don't want that, and neither do you. Okay?"
McKenzie hesitates.
"It's just Frost," Jane tries. "You've met Frost, remember? He's just my partner."
"He wants to kill me!" McKenzie says, sounding unsure. "You'd kill me, if I didn't have your gun."
Jane does not have to pretend to look shocked or hurt by this accusation. "I would never, Kenz," she says softly. "I care very much about you, and I would never hurt you."
But McKenzie shakes her head and gestures with a free hand at the little boy in the corner, still now. "You know everything now!" she cries. "You know she's been taking them. You know she killed them! And I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything to help the law. And you told Isabelle that's the most important thing. I'm..." McKenzie's eyes fill with tears. "I'm just as bad as her."
Jane shakes her head. "Not at all," she says firmly. "No, honey."
"I didn't do anything."
"You were scared. And...you didn't want to think about what was happening." Jane puts her hands out. "I understand it must have been so scary. I understand you felt like you didn't have anywhere to go."
"She killed that man...that was your case," McKenzie says finally. "I saw him dead. And I saw her make...she cut...I..."
"It's okay," Jane says immediately. "It's okay."
"I just ran away. I came to stay with you...I thought I could just forget it...but I heard on the news that he'd got found. I knew...that...I knew that..."
"You don't have to explain to me," Jane says, chancing another step towards her. "I understand."
"You're just saying that," McKenzie says, looking anguished. "I saw your face when you picked me up...you knew I'd been...you knew what I'd been doing."
Jane shakes her head, truly at a loss. "No sweetheart. I didn't-" but she's cut off by her phone buzzing again.
This time, McKenzie gestures at it. "Tell Frost that I will make the boy come out," she says. "But that's it. Just the little boy. He shouldn't have to see anything else. And he should go home."
...
...
Maura pulls the phone away from her ear as she opens the door on a frantic looking Angela and a tense looking Constance.
"Thank you," she says, "thank you both for coming."
"Any news?" Constance asks, holding out a steadying arm to Angela as they cross the threshold. Maura takes a moment to marvel at the evolution of their relationship. "McKenzie let the boy go," Maura says, holding the phone up. "Frost just let me know. But other than that they're still in there."
"But no..." Constance glances at Angela. "No reason to think that anyone has been injured, correct?"
Angela makes a strangled sound.
"No," Maura says quickly. "No reason, Angela, okay? Jane's been in worse than this. She's going to be alright."
"I knew we should have done background on that girl!" Angela bursts out. "I knew she wasn't right for our Bella."
"Lower your voice," Maura hisses, turning away to grab her coat from over the banister. "Your Bella is just in the living room and she is inconsolable. You are not to say anything like that in her hearing, do you understand?"
Angela nods, and Constance looks mildly impressed. When Maura has shrugged her coat up over her shoulders, the older woman steps forward to hug her.
"Take care," Constance whispers in her ear. "We'll be here as long as it takes. Come back safe to your children. Both of you."
...
...
"It's not fair," McKenzie says.
Jane closes her eyes momentarily. She has never heard the teen sound younger or more vulnerable than she does in this moment. "You're right," she agrees. "Very few things are. But don't…do something that you're going to regret just because you think-"
"She killed them," McKenzie says, her voice going hard. She turns to look at her mother, and she raises the gun higher. "You were going to kill that boy. Just like the others." She glances at Jane. "I stopped her like you said I should."
Jane nods quickly, avoiding pointing out that this was not what she meant. "Yes," she says. "You saved him. That's a wonderful thing you did for him and his parents. Now just…give me my gun and we can get out of here. I can take care of every-"
"No," McKenzie says clearly. She does not look crazed. She does not even look scared. And why should she be scared when she's the one holding the gun?
"Kenz," Jane tries again. "You helped that little boy get free. You did so good honey, but now-"
"She killed that man!" McKenzie cuts her off. "He showed up here because she said they could be a family. He came because she said she had his son." McKenzie levels the gun at her mother. "But she didn't," she says coldly. "It was just more lies."
Eileen still has her hands in the air, but her trance seems to have worn off now. She stares at her daughter with a detached, calculating stare. She doesn't move, and when she speaks, it is eerie, like words coming from a stone.
"He could have been his son. We could have been fine. If you'd just done what I'd said. If you hadn't gotten mixed up with a cops' kid in the first place."
McKenzie's facade cracks a little, and Jane knows it's the mention of Isabelle that has done this. Eileen seems to know it too.
"What is she going to say when she finds out what you did?" She asks lowly. "When she finds out you just stood there and watched me stab him. How you took his hands and his feet and his face and you buried them for me. Cleaned the floors and the wall. How you helped me."
"No!" Kenzie says, and her eyes shut tight. "No! I just...I couldn't..."
"Kenzie," Jane says talking a little louder as she registers the distant sound of sirens. An Ambulance. Eileen's revalation has made her stomach turn over. She had wanted to believe that McKenzie was safe in her house during the murder. "Baby, listen. I'm so sorry she-"
"Don't call me that!" McKenzie cries, and tears spring to her eyes again, sudden and alarming. She's not right, Jane finds herself thinking. Her training whispers to her. She's not steady. "Don't tell me how sorry you are. I don't care. Everything's over anyway, right? Nothing matters anymore."
"That's not true," Jane says urgently, skipping the apology. "That's not true, McKenzie. Not if you put down the gun."
McKenzie shakes her head, and she turns to look back at her mother. Her pointer finger moves over the trigger. "You're just a liar and a cop. You're trying to trick me. I'm going to kill her."
"I would never lie," Jane says, feeling sweat start to bead on her forehead. "And you don't have to. You don't have to kill her in order to never, ever come back here."
"I stole your gun!" McKenzie says, her face going red. "I stole from you and all you ever did was take care of me."
She makes a shrugging motion to wipe her eyes, and the gun lolls for a second. Jane chances a step closer. So does Eileen.
"I'm not mad," she says gently. "Hon, I'm not mad at all, okay? I know how scared you must have been, hearing about Graves.
"She killed him!" McKenzie repeats, stepping closer to Eileen. Her hands around the gun are stark white. "He didn't want that boy. He wouldn't have wanted any of the boys! They weren't his son. He's dead."
"Kenz," Jane says softly, trying to pull the teens attention back. "McKenzie."
But she continues on, yelling at her mother as though she's had the words bottled up for years. "The cops were just doing their job!" she cries. "You didn't do anything to protect him. You didn't care about him or me. I HATE YOU!"
"And I HATE YOU!" Eileen yells back, and her outburst pulls McKenzie up short. "Kieran would have stayed if it weren't for you. If the bastard stain of my infidelity wasn't the one who answered the door." She sneers at McKenzie's wide eyes. "I should have drowned you when I had the chance," she sneers. "Even your real father didn't want you."
"He wouldn't have accepted that little boy as his son."
"He wouldn't have had to if it wasn't for you. If it wasn't for you my son would still be alive."
"The police shot him," McKenzie says, though she sounds less sure now.
"He wanted them to," Eileen says, and Jane notices her hands are down by her sides now. When did her hands come down?
"Mckenzie," she says, taking a step forward, but the teen swings the gun to point at the detective's chest. Jane stops dead, putting her hands out.
"Yes," Eileen says, bolstered. "He wanted them to. Do you know why?"
McKenzie gives Jane one warning glance before turning back to look at her mother.
"Shut up," she says.
...
...
Mom.
Forgive me my sins. That is what the pastor taught us to say in church. I go every Sunday, even the days when you won't get out of bed. Every time, I pray to be different. To get better. But the feelings never leave. Not even after communion.
I love Mac, and I'm not going to hurt her.
My father's bloodline ends with me. If you won't do something, then I will.
I will not die a monster.
Forgive me.
Your son.
Kieran Jr.
...
...
"You killed him," Eileen says fiercely.
"No!" McKenzie cries, but Jane can tell she's lost the upper hand. She can see the balance of power shifting and there's nothing she can do about it. Not from where she is.
The gun shakes in McKenzie's hands.
"He killed himself. He made sure he would die. So that he wouldn't, maybe, do something to you. That makes you a murderer. Just like me."
"No!" Jane says, and McKenzie's wild, terrified eyes shift to take her in.
The detective recognizes her mistake at once. As soon as McKenzie's attention shifts, Eileen launches herself across the room, her mouth open in a silent cheer of victory.
Elieen hits her daughter full force, reaching a hand out as they tumble to the ground.
"No!" McKenzie screams, and she is echoed by Jane, who launches herself after the pair as they tumble to the floor. "McKenzie!" she yells, and she has one glimpse of the teenager's frantic, horrified face.
And then there is a gunshot.
And then everything is still.
…
…
"There was nothing you could have done differently that would have had a more favorable outcome."
Jane doesn't know where Maura has come from, but there's a wave of her perfume and then gentle, familiar hands are closing over her own. "Honey," she says softly.
Jane shakes her head, still not looking up. "All the signs were right there in front of me, Maura. And I missed them."
"I missed them too," Maura says.
Jane shrugs her off. "I'm a detective. I should have put them together."
"And I am a doctor," Maura says firmly, holding tighter when Jane tries to pull away. "No, Jane, if you're determined to blame yourself for this morning's events, then you have to blame me too."
She waits for a moment, and when Jane doesn't answer, she sighs, leaning forward to put her forehead against the detective's shoulder.
"Where are the kids?" Jane murmurs.
"Angela and Constance are with them."
Jane nods, but doesn't say anymore. Maura frees a hand so that she can put her palm to Jane's cheek.
"You saved a little boy today," she whispers. "You returned him to a mother and father who had begun to give up hope of ever seeing him alive again. And you saved a little girl who-"
"Who might go away for murder," Jane interrupts harshly, and she pulls fully away from the doctor, standing up.
"It was an accident. She never would have."
Jane shakes her head again, as though there are too many conflicting emotions in her mind for her to form coherent thought. "You can't do the autopsy, Maur?"
Maura bites her lip. "There's no way the board will allow it. It's a conflict of interest."
"There's no such thing for you," Jane counters. "You're completely impartial in all situations."
Maura smiles. "While that may have been true fifteen years ago, Jane, we both know that it is not the case now."
Jane sighs heavily, sinking into another seat in the waiting room. Maura moves to join her.
"I know what you're thinking," she says gently.
Jane half smiles. "Do you?"
"Yes," Maura says, smiling too. "You are thinking about our children when they were little. When they were 9 and 7 and 4 and you could tuck them all in at night and kiss their little heads and know, really know that you could protect them from everything."
Jane doesn't bother denying it.
"But now, they go out and they get in to trouble all by themselves," Maura continues. "And most days, you can push the bone crushing worry to the back of your head, and get on with your life. You tell yourself that they will be okay on their own, because the alternative is to go insane from anxiety."
"That seems to be happening anyway," Jane says sarcastically.
Maura kisses the side of her head, but doesn't acknowledge the tone. "Honey, you could not have protected McKenzie from this. You could not have protected Isabelle either...and she doesn't blame you. When I left, the only thing she could say was that you must hate her. She was out of her mind with terror when she found out you were in that house. She knew you'd gone in there for her."
Jane wipes angrily at her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Am I an open book?"
Maura chuckles. "To me you are, darling. Tell me truthfully you don't like it."
Jane shakes her head, and then reaches out to pull Maura closer. In the hard plastic seats it is difficult to hug, but they make it work.
"Tell me more things I need to hear," Jane says into Maura's hair. "Please."
Maura nods, tilting Jane's head up so they are eye to eye. "Eileen killed three little boys and a man. Her death, while not insignificant, should not weigh on you. Not in light of those that you saved."
Jane sighs. "I'm not worried about how it will weigh on me, Maura. I'm worried about how it will weigh on McKenzie, whether or not she goes away for this." The detective cannot bring herself to say jail.
Maura sighs too. "She was surrendering. She was lowering the gun. It wasn't her fault. And that woman was neglectful to her at the least, and abusive at the worst."
Jane rests her head in her hands. "That doesn't matter," she says quietly. "That doesn't matter to McKenzie at all."
...
...
"Jane? ...Jane? ...Jane are you sleeping?"
"If I said yes, would that matter?"
"Will you let me have a family with you?"
"...can I turn sixteen first? Can we have our year anniversary? Maybe graduate high school?"
"I mean in the future. I mean...will you stay this wonderful forever? Will you stay loving me forever?"
"Well, it's four am, and you woke me up from a dream where I was playing one on one with Kevin Garnett, yet I don't feel the desire to kick you out of bed, so I say...yes."
"Jane, be serious."
"I am. I love you, Maura, and as long as you promise to love me too. When we get there, mind you...Yes, I will have a family with you."
"Lots of kids."
"Lots like seven?"
"Yes. Or eight, so no one's in the middle. And we'll love them and protect them and take care of them."
"I won't drink, or yell."
"And I will stay home on the weekends, and hug them goodnight. Every night."
"Can you really see all that, Maur? With me?"
"Only with you, Jane. For the first time in my life."
...
...
All four of their children are there when they arrive home. Jane allows her mother to embrace her, tolerating the tearful admonitions and the caressing of her face before gently disengaging and heading into the living room.
Isabelle and Sofia are on the sofa together, Isabelle's head buried in her sister's shoulder. Noah and Levi sit in the armchairs on either side, like bodyguards, looking stoic and pale. Jane feels a lump form in her throat, but she swallows through it, and moves over to the couch, tapping Sofia gently on the shoulder when she gets close enough.
Sofia shifts at once, without the detective having to tell her to, and after a moment, it is Jane's shoulder that Isabelle is crying against, and Jane's waist that Bella wraps her arms around to pull closer.
"Mama," she says, though she hasn't opened her eyes to make sure. "Mama, Mama."
Jane blinks tears away. "Shh, golden girl. I'm here."
She knows that Isabelle is not just crying because Jane was in danger. She knows her daughter is crying for her girlfriend, crying for herself, crying because it is too complicated and too hard and too scary and she is still just a child.
"We will get through this," Jane whispers into her ear. "If you let us help you, we will all be there for you, and everything will be okay. You'll see."
Isabelle cries harder, but like they have heard her words, Levi and Noah get up and squeeze onto the couch with them. Maura comes too, squeezing in next to Sofia, pushing the teens dark hair aside to kiss her temple.
"We love you all so much," Maura murmurs, watching as Noah shifts to sit half on Levi's lap so they will all fit. "Everything's going to be okay."
Sofia reaches across Jane and Isabelle in order to take Levi's hand, and for a moment it seems like the family is embracing. A giant, six person group hug.
"Mommy?" Noah says, his little voice carrying over Isabelle's renewed tears.
"Yes, darling?"
"Will we all fit in your bed, still?"
Jane can tell by her wife's intake of breath that she is too choked up to respond, so she answers for her.
"Let's try."