Jane came barreling back to her desk with Frost at her heel. Both Frankie and Korsak looked up to them when she and Frost entered, but neither spoke; they saw the dangerous look in Jane's eyes, the look that they had seen only a handful of times before – Jane hadn't broken James White, which meant they still had no idea where Caidence was.

Taking a moment to compose herself at her desk, Jane rubbed her aching temples and closed her eyes. She visualized Caidence, alone someplace, afraid that James would come back and also afraid that he wouldn't, that she would stay there forever and die alone. Jane's heart constricted at the thought. She was certain of one thing. Caidence Barker-Morse was alive, but for how long, Jane wasn't sure. She had gotten the unsettling feeling from James' hysteria that he wouldn't knowingly hurt her, but that certainly didn't mean she wasn't hurt.

"Frost, pull up that journal White was talking about. How come we didn't know about it?"

Frost was already at his computer and booting it back up. He shrugged. "He did say he worked for a paper in Michigan," replied Frost. "We didn't ask what type of column he ran, though. Hang on. I'll pull it up."

"Frankie, what are you doin' here?" Jane asked.

"Just wanted to see if there was anything I could do." He shrugged, but Jane saw the hesitation. The brother and sister stared at each other until Frankie could no longer take it, and Jane smiled triumphantly when he caved. "Pops called Ma this morning. He's coming in to talk to her. She told him she didn't want to see him, but he said it was important."

"So you're hiding up here, why?"

"Because Ma wants me to talk to him."

Jane snorted. "Of course she does. Well? Are you going to?"

"Would you?"

"I don't want to see him." responded Jane stiffly, turning away from her brother and standing behind Frost.

"Well neither do I! And neither does Ma, for that matter. What d'you think he wants?"

"To be honest, Frankie, I really don't care. Our father left a long time ago. Whoever is coming back isn't him." She dug her hands into her pockets and stared at Frost's computer screen. Frankie was still standing near her desk, looking as though he wanted to say more but not knowing what words to choose. Frost tapped the mouse a few more times and finally the online newspaper that Aiden Barker worked at popped up.

"He ran a blog." said Frost quietly, squinting at the screen to read. "It looks like a blog for single dads."

"Was it popular?"

"Looks like the traffic increased around the time Aiden's book was published." A graph popped up on Frost's screen and they all looked. "Whew, yeah. Once Aiden became a household name for parents with kids, his blog went way up. He went from 1,000 hits a month to over 400,000."

"That's a lot, right?"

"That's huge for a small town blogger from Michigan. Looks like Aiden wasn't just getting paid from his book deal. This site is crawling with ads. He probably made a good fortune off of this alone."

"So he's mooching off his kid in more ways than one." grumbled Jane. "A book, a blog. Doesn't anyone keep anything private anymore?"

"It looks like most of this is just talking about what it's like to be a single dad with a kid, but not have primary custody. Talks about the courts, talks about missing Caidence," he scrolled down the page a little more. "Nothing too personal. It's just enough to make a connection with an audience without giving too much away."

Jane chewed on her lip as she thought. It no longer seemed like Aiden had anything to do with his daughter's abduction, or at least not consciously. "Any pictures of Caidence on the site?"

"A few of him and her."

"So James White is introduced to the books, probably by his daughters. Reads up on the author, finds Aiden's blog. Realizes how much they have in common. At the same time, James White gets kicked out of his house and is barred from seeing his kids. Everything we've heard about this guy suggests that he was a good dad before he got hooked on the drugs, right? He can't see his kids, he has little chance in getting them back in court on drugs or without drugs, he's bitter and high and so he takes Caidence."

"But why?"

"Something to control. He can't control his situation. He's hooked on the drugs, he can't stop himself. He can't see his kids without giving up the drugs, but he doesn't know how. He's losing everything around him." Jane wagged her finger over at their evidence board, where Aiden Barker's picture was hanging next to Caidence's. "But this guy, he has a chance. James sees him as the complete opposite of himself, and it makes him feel more hopeless. If Aiden can't even get his kid back, this guy who clearly has so much love for his daughter... James knows he'll never see his kids again."

Frost nodded to himself. "So he takes Caidence."

"To feel some level of control in his life. He takes her because he sees hope in Aiden's life where he sees none in his own." Jane looked at Frost and Korsak. They're both deep in thought, but she can see that they agree with her. "We gotta find this kid."

Frowning grimly, Korsak asked: "You think she's still alive?"

"Absolutely. James wouldn't have killed her. All he wants is for her to be with her dad. That's what he wants, almost more than anything, next to him being back in his kids' lives. Frost, you saw him in that interrogation room. He was cracked. Killing Caidence would destroy the illusion of him having some control over an uncontrollable situation. She's alive." Jane stared at the picture of Caidence hanging on their board. "She's alive, and we just gotta find her."

"So where do we start?" questioned Frost.

"I'm going to bring the parents up to speed." she replied promptly. "Frost, you take Frankie and go down to Bay Village. I didn't see a car when I arrested White, so he had to of walked from where he was coming from. See if there are any security cameras on the apartment complexes down there. Go a mile each way. Once we know the direction he came from, we can go from there. Korsak, get White's wife on the phone and bring her in. Maybe she can get her ex to give us the location. It's worth a shot. Hey – " Jane looked around the room. "Is Maura back with Caitlyn Ford yet?"

Korsak's mouth opened to answer but it snapped right back shut when the door slammed open. An energized Maura flooded into the room, headed straight for Jane. The door slamming startled Jane and caused her to jump; she turned and faced Maura just in time for Maura to reach her, and Maura stared – almost pleadingly, but with more anger – into Jane's eyes.

"Did you know?" she hissed.

"Uh," Jane looked over to Korsak, Frost and Frankie for help, but the all shrugged. "I'm going to go with no, since I have no idea what you're talking about. What's wrong?" Jane examined Maura. Her whole body was shaking, right down to her feet. An angry red colored her cheeks and her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, were closed. Maura took a deep breath and opened them again, this time avoiding eye contact with Jane and instead looking down at the ground. She seemed to be struggling with her words, something that Jane had only seen a handful of times with her friend.

With a gentle grip, Jane guided Maura by her hands into an empty meeting room, shutting the door and locking it behind her. Maura leaned up against the conference table, hugging herself protectively, her eyes still down towards the floor.

"Hey," whispered Jane softly. "What's going on?"

"Did you know that Caitlyn Ford is my sister?" she rasped.

Jane gaped. "Maura," There was nothing funny about Maura's words, but Jane let out a chuckle in disbelief. " – that's impossible."

"No, no, it's not. Caitlyn Ford is my sister. Half-sister, I presume. Which makes Caidence my niece."

"How did you even come up with that? That's – "

"Jane, you taught me not to believe in coincidences. I know I'm right."

"And you taught me that there is no such thing as a gut feeling, Maura. You're juping to conclusions. Why do you think – "

"Her middle name is Maura."

"That doesn't mean – "

"Her middle name is Maura and she was named after a child her mother gave birth to and that passed away, Jane. When her mother was a teen. And her mother... her mother's name is Hope. And I saw her. I – " she stumbled over her words. " – she has my eyes, Jane. Hope and Caitlyn. Caitlyn is my sister. Caidence is my neice. Hope is my mother." Maura gave Jane an exhausted look, and Jane stared abashedly back at her friend, shock and awe casting itself down her body.

"That's why Caitlyn looked so familiar." Jane stepped closer to Maura and let her finger hook itself beneath Maura's chin, tilting the woman's head up so she could get a closer look at her friend's eyes. She pulled away a second later, a little embarrassed by her forwardness.

"What?"

"Her eyes looked familiar." Jane explained lamely.

Maura tilted her head in curiosity. "You recognized my eyes?"

Jane froze. Was that a normal friend thing to do? "They're unique." she said stiffly. "She was really upset, you know. And I've seen that look before. In you." Maura stared at Jane. Feeling self-conscious, Jane turned away, rubbing her arms with her hands to rid herself of the goosebumps that always sprung up every time Maura looked at her with such scrutiny. "Are you sure about this?"

"I'm positive."

"What are you going to do?"

Maura threw her hands up in the air. "I can't tell them! Not now. Not ever, Jane! I made that decision weeks ago, that I wasn't going to find her, that I was happy with my life and I didn't need to know. But now that I know..." she groaned. "Now that I've seen her. It makes it so much more real. She's real. She's..." A tear slipped down Maura's cheek. "She's my mother."

"Hey, hey," Jane pulled Maura into a hug. "If you don't want to tell her right now, you don't have to. But," she pulled back and tucked a strand of Maura's hair behind her ear. " – if you decide to tell Hope and Caitlyn, I'll be here. You have every right to want to know them."

"It would be so cruel." whispered Maura.

"You did nothing wrong." Jane insisted. "Paddy Doyle is the one who did all of this. Look, I have to go talk to Caitlyn and Aiden about James White, bring them up to speed. Why don't you go down and get my mother and go out to lunch or an early dinner. Frankie said Pops is stopping by today, so chances are, Ma wants out of here anyway. Come back here later tonight, okay? Don't go home to an empty house."

Maura dabbed at her eyes. "I'm fine." she said shakily. "I'll go see if your mother wants to go out," And with not a single glance at Jane, Maura exited the room.

Matthew White was everything and nothing like his brother. While they each stood tall and thin, Matthew's face was clean and smooth. The faintest trace of sandy blonde hair could be seen atop his shaven head. Like James, his shoulders were broad and his arms long and lanky, but Matthew's muscles were more defined. He had no limp to his step, no shaky limbs or beady, anxious eyes. His sharp features were offset by the nearly ever present smile that could be found on his face. But as the older White boy walked down the hallway towards his brother's holding cell, his smile had vanished. In his hand was clasped another; the hand of his mother, Theresa.

Her face showed her struggles – the years she spent raising two boys, being a wife, being a home keeper, a cook, a maid. She had not aged well. At only fifty-seven, Theresa White looked like a woman ten years her senior. Her hair had long gone grey. It was short and curly, just above her ears. Side by side with her son, she looked even smaller than she really was. Her arms were so thin that the officer escorting them to James' cell was sure she could easily snap herself in half. She wobbled as she walked and leaned against her son.

"He's a good boy," she said to the officer, her voice shaking lightly. "He's struggled, but I know his heart is pure."

The officer said nothing.

A few steps more, Matthew and Theresa stood in front of James' holding cell. It wasn't very big. There was enough room for maybe two people to stand, but most of the space was taken up by a long cot against the left side. Next to it, near the head of the bed, was a toilet and then just a few inches over, but on the right side, was a small writing table with a stool, both attached to the wall. The walls were painted a putrid green half way up, until it turned to a murky, off-white, that surely had been white in its time but had gotten dingier over the years.

James didn't seem aware of them standing just outside his reach. He was huddled on the bed, his back pressed to the corner, with his knees pulled up to his chest. Theresa stepped forward and clenched a bar of his cell, shaking it a bit to try and get his attention.

"You've got five minutes." said the officer, stepping off to the side, but not out of hearing range.

"What have you done?" Theresa asked in a shaky voice. James looked up; he squinted at the bars, as if he can't quite make out who is standing just outside of them, and finally he stood, dusting himself off and stumbling over. His face was covered in a shiny sweat and his body trembled. Licking his cracked lips, he leaned his head against the bars.

"I screwed up, Mama." he said hoarsely.

Theresa slipped a hand through the bars to touch a lock of James' hair; it was unwashed and slick with grease. Her finger trailed down her baby boy's face, down to his chin, and she lifted it so they were eye level. One tear fell down his cheek, and then two, and soon they came in waves. He knocked his forehead against the iron of the bars. Theresa stepped away, a gut wrenching sob threatening to tear through her throat. She stared helplessly at her child, at the little boy who had once brought so much joy into her life.

She turned away, unable to bare looking at her son any longer. Matt came forward and slinked a hand through the bars, grabbing on to the color of his brother's shirt and slamming him into the iron bars. James' barely struggled.

"Why?" he hissed. "Huh? Why'd you take that little girl?"

Theresa turned back around at the sound, letting out a surprised gasp when she looked at her two sons. She yelled at Matt to let him go and, on his mother's command, he did; James crumpled to the ground. The officer came back over and looked at them all expectantly, his hand resting on the top of his gun.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Matt sniffled and stepped away from the bars. "Nothin', sorry."

The officer eyed him. "Three minutes."

"I just want my kids," cried James from the floor.

"Think of Delia," whispered Theresa. "Think of your wife, think of your kids. Tell the police where the little girl is. Please." But James stayed silent. Theresa looked hopelessly up at Matt. She turned and walked down the hall a little bit, leaving Matt alone with his brother. Matt stared down at James.

"Get up." he demanded. "Get up."

James complied, but he directed his eyes downward. He hobbled to the bars again and began to ramble.

"Caidence is smart," he spoke quietly, but quickly. "Smart like my Ali. Real quick-witted, too. And, and you know the pouty lip that Carmen does? Caidence does it too, Matty. Tall like Adi. Real tall for her age." he paused. "I want to see my kids," whined James. "I want to see 'em, Matt. Can you bring them here? Can I have them? Can I see them, please?"

"Get it together," Matt said quietly. "C'mon, man. This isn't you. Where's my little brother? Jamie... please. Tell me where the little girl is." A tear slipped down his cheek. Matt leaned against the bars, pressing his head against the same bar as James. They stood and cried together. Matt reached into the cell and gripped his brother's forearm. "You screwed up, man. You screwed up bad. The only way you can help yourself is to tell me where Caidence is, okay? Do it for the girls."

"I can't," cried James.

"You can." insisted Matt. "Think of what dad would say, man. This would kill him to see you like this. C'mon, Jamie. Just tell me."

"You gotta promise me somethin',"

"What?"

"You have to take Caidence to her dad, Matt. To her dad, okay? Her dad loves her. Her dad wants her. Her dad deserves her."

"I promise." said Matt. "I promise I'll take her to her dad. Just tell me."

A few seconds pause, and then: "I used your name."

Jane threaded her fingers through her hair, sighed, and stepped out of her car. The light on Maura's porch was on but all the lights in the guest house were off, giving Jane reasonable suspicious that her mother was inside. The afternoon had waned on with no tips, no leads, and no Maura. One text had come to Jane's phone in the early evening from Angela, saying that she and Maura were back at the house and that they would see Jane for dinner, but Jane didn't make it home for any kind of dinner. She stayed at the precinct, eyes glued to the computer, until Korsak had ushered her out the door.

James still wasn't talking, and Delia couldn't be reached.

Fumbling through her keys, Jane unlocked Maura's front door and stepped inside, relieved that Maura had given her the key months ago. She kicked off her shoes and tossed her unworn jacket towards the coat rack, not taking much care to make sure it had actually reached a hook. The smell of cleaning solvent drove her towards the living room where Jane found Maura asleep on the couch.

She looked peaceful. Her leg were tucked beneath a blanket and she hugged a pillow to her chest. Honey colored hair fell like a veil over Maura's eyes and Jane walked over, gently taking the strands, smooth like silk between Jane's fingers, and tucked them behind her ear. It must have tickled Maura's face, because her face scrunched up and her nose wiggled, but she didn't wake. She only hugged the pillow closer to her.

"The poor thing," said a voice from behind. Jane jumped and twirled around and came face to face with her mother. She scowled and pushed past her. "Did I startle you?"

"No that was just the start of my nightly jumping jacks." growled Jane. She passively wondered how long her mother had been standing behind her, watching her. Watching her watch Maura. The door to the fridge opened with a soft pop and Jane grabbed a beer from the bottom shelf, uncapping it with ease and taking a long drink. She couldn't think about that. Angela came to meet her at the island counter.

"I've never seen her like this," she tilted her heads towards Maura.

"How was she today?"

"She cried. Barely ate dinner," Angela sighed. "What do you think she's gonna do?"

"I don't know. I understand why Maura is afraid to tell them, especially with the investigation right now, but I know how much Maura has always wanted to know her birth mom. No matter what she says, she's... she wants to know. I know it."

"What about Constance? What do you think she would say to all this?"

Jane's face fell and she leaned up against the counter. "I wouldn't know. Despite Constance's speech about wanting to get closer with Maura again, she's mysteriously fallen off the face of the planet. Hasn't called Maura since she got out of the hospital. Bitch."

"Jane!"

"Well, what, Ma? She ain't no angel."

"No but she's your friend's mother and she deserves respect."

"Yeah I'll respect her when she respects Maura."

"Jane..."

"No, Ma! Christ, that's her daughter and she can't even be bothered to call? I mean, no wonder Maura didn't want to find Hope. She's probably terrified of the disappointment. And now she has no choice. She's going to be hurt whichever way she turns. She could go and tell Hope who she is and possibly be shunned, or told to get lost, or just... not wanted, again, or she can keep it to herself and suffer the cost of not knowing."

"It's not fair."

"No, it's not fair. Maura deserves so much more." Jane took another slow sip of her beer and then set the bottle down. "She deserves – "

" – she deserves to feel loved by at least one of her mothers," Angela finished for Jane.

"Well, she has the love of one mother." replied Jane. "She's got you."

Angela smiles. "It's not the same."

"You're right, it's not. But it's better. You chose to love Maura. Not because you raised her, not because you gave birth to her. You just love her." Jane let herself look over at Maura again. There was a certain childlike innocence to the way Maura laid, and it made Jane smile. "You can go back to the guest house if you want. It's late. I'll stay with Maura. I've got some work to do anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go." Jane waves her towards the door. "Korsak kicked me out of the office but that doesn't mean I can't work on stuff here."

"You should sleep."

"I will."

"And you should eat something."

"I will, Ma."

Angela frowned. "Okay." she gave Jane a hug and went to leave out the back door, but she paused and turned back around, hanging quietly in the doorway still, her eyes focused on her daughter who had turned to grab a slice of cold pizza from the fridge. "Janie?" she says quietly. "You think we could talk about something for a minute or two?"

Jane turns back around, a slice of cold pizza dangling from her mouth. She tears off a bite and sets the pizza back down. "If this has to do with Pops," she began. "I know he came into the station today, and I can't help you with him, Ma – "

The older Rizzoli held up a hand. "It's nothin' to do with your father."

"Then what?" She seemed to hesitate; it was in the way that Angela was holding herself, as if she was nervous, as if stepping inside any further, any closer to Jane, could cause devastation. The longer Jane stared at her mother, the more nervous she got, and the longer Angela remained silent, the louder Jane's stomach growled. "Well spit it out!"

"Are you gay?" squealed Angela. Jane's mouth fell. Of all the things she expected to come out of her mother's mouth – digs at her wardrobe, nagging about her job, complaining about Frankie – the question 'are you gay' was never even on the list. Jane blinked a few times. She briefly wondered if it was a dream, if she was not standing in Maura's kitchen, if she was really asleep at her desk at work, but the longer she stood there the more obvious it became that she was very, very awake.

She swallowed hard. "Pardon?"

"Are you a lesbian?"

"Ma," said Jane slowly. "You cannot just ask people if they are gay."

"Janie, I'd be okay with it. I've been doin' a lot of research about having gay children and, you know, I know the Catholic Church isn't big on it, but in my opinion, love really has no bounds. And there's a group, it's called PFLAG – "

"Oh my God."

"If you're gay, you shouldn't take God's name in vain, too. There's gotta be some balance."

"Ma! I am not – "

"Well what do you expect a mother to think?!" shrieked Angela. Behind them on the couch, Maura stirred. Panicked, Jane and Angela looked over to her, but Maura didn't fully come out of her sleep, so the two took their discussion out on the patio. Jane gently closed the door behind them before turning on her mother, her arms protectively hugging her middle and her eyes narrowed. "You don't have a husband!"

"Lots of people don't have husbands."

"Not pretty Italian girls like you."

"Did you miss the men in my life? Dean? Casey? They were male, I have first hand knowledge of the fact."

"And they were wonderful me, Jane. Well, Casey. Casey's a handsome man. Dean – "

"What about Dean?"

"You could do better." Angela shrugged.

"That is so rude!"

"I'm just givin' you my opinion!"

"I don't want your opinion!"

"I'm your mother, you don't get a choice in the matter!"

Jane threw her hands up in the air and growled in frustration. "I'm not gay, mother. Why would you even think that?"

"Because of Maura."

"Because of – " Jane gaped. "Okay, that's it. Tomorrow Frankie and I are putting you in a home, because you clearly have lost your mind."

"You are in love with that girl! I can see it in your eyes!"

"I – you – she – no."

"Maura is the first person I have ever seen you be yourself around. No wall, nothin'. You go to her when you're upset, you'd protect her with your life. Jane, she's a part of you. You gave her your heart already and you don't even realize it."

"She's my best friend!"

"No," Angela said softly, shaking her head. "I mean, yeah, she's your best friend. But she's so much more than that. You mean to tell me you never thought about it? About her? That girl in there would die for you just like you would die for her. And hell, both of ya almost already have. I seen the way you two look at each other. When you look at her, it's like she's the first person you've ever seen. I'm not tellin' what to do, I'm just tellin' ya to think about it."

Jane sat down on the porch swing and tucked her legs beneath her. Had she not covered her tracks well enough? Had she really been that transparent that even her mother saw through her? Though Angela kept saying the word love. Did she love Maura? It seemed to heavy of a word. Jane had always been attracted to her friend, but love? Jane wasn't even sure if she could love someone. She had fought for months to keep her growing feelings buried, and here they were being forcibly extracted.

"I don't know." said Jane quietly.

"You don't know what?"

"What I am." And there it was. All of what Jane was afraid of admitting for months and months and maybe even years – that Jane, the hardened and put together Boston detective, a woman who had succeeded in her profession where others hadn't, who always seemed to have everything in her life figured out – was terrified of herself. Of who she was, of what she was. Of not being what everyone else expected her to be.

The years of Angela nagging her to get a boyfriend, to get a husband, to get married and have kids – all of those disappointments crashed against Jane and she buried her face into her hands. She wasn't the daughter her mother wanted. She wasn't the person she wanted to be. She was somewhere stuck in a middle grown, torn between wanting to accept her feelings and embrace who she was, even if she didn't know who that was, and running back and hiding beneath her covers.

Angela sighed and took a seat next to her daughter, wrapping her arm around Jane's shoulders. "In my motherly opinion," she said, stroking Jane's hair. "Love doesn't need a label. It is what it is."

"How long have you wondered?"

"A while now," admitted Angela. "But when you and Casey didn't work out, I knew. If that man couldn't take your heart, I knew someone already had."

"Well it doesn't help that Casey's off in a desert half way across the world." Jane snorted.

"Well, then. But when I saw that he was home and realized you two hadn't started whatever it was back up again – "

"What?"

"Hm?"

"What do you mean you saw that he was home? You mean, the first time? Before he left again?"

"No, I saw him just the other day. I..." Angela's face fell. "You didn't know."

Shocked, Jane shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "I didn't."

"I thought you knew, Jane. Maura and I saw him – "

"Maura knew?"

Angela remained silent.

"Ma, Maura knew Casey was back? And she didn't tell me?"

"Well the case, Jane..."

"Yes or no. Did Maura know?"

"Yes."

–

Happy Tuesgay! Minus the gay since there's no Rizzoli and Isles :( Booooo. Have a good night everyone!