Warning: allusions to sexual assault in this chapter, nothing graphic but the theme is present. All around heavy chapter, definitely not fluffy.

What if…

Chapter 2: …Hoyt got them both

Jane knew something was wrong, but couldn't remember what. Nightmare, she decided as she tried to shake the heavy feeling of sleep. She attempted to bring her hand up to rub her eyes, but both hands seemed to be attached to something.

Hoyt.

Her eyes shot open and came face to face with her nightmare. She had duct tape covering her mouth as she lay pinned to her living room floor by the weight of Charles Hoyt who straddled her chest. As she brought her hands up to push the man off her, she saw the grey tape affixed at her wrists.

"Welcome back," he said, bringing a gun into her line of sight. Her head moved frantically, looking for Gabriel. It didn't take long for her eyes to meet his. He was duct taped as well, a thin red line of blood ran down his face from a wound on his forehead. More blood dripped from his nose onto the tape covering his mouth. He was sitting on her couch with a scalpel pressed against his neck. Her eyes shifted to the man attached to the weapon and recognized him immediately. He was one of Maura's techs. She had seen him at several crime scenes including the murder in West Roxbury. His crime scene she realized. He moved his murder victim using his official capacity for the ME's office.

Hoyt touched her face with the gun, demanding her attention. "Agent Dean here put up quite a fight," he taunted her. "I didn't think we'd have an audience for this part." His words started to sink in, they were going to rape her in front of him and then kill him. At the thought she renewed her struggles. Hoyt clipped her temple with the side of the gun, just hard enough to daze her. "I'm going to take the tape off your mouth and you're not going to scream, right?"

Jane nodded and stifled a moan as the tape was ripped away. She stayed quiet for a beat, trying to gain some composure. "You have me, let him go," she finally said, her voice as steady as she could manage. She watched as Hoyt processed her words.

"Now, how much fun would that be?" he asked glancing to the two men on the other side of the room. "You know how I like an audience."

"Hoyt, please. I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt him," she pleaded knowing she was taking a risk. Exposing her emotions to this sadistic killer may make matters worse, but when the only outcome she could anticipate was death, it was hard to think how barging could make it worse.

He appeared to be mulling the offer over while muffled protests drifted over from the Dean. A sickening smile grew on Hoyt's face, making Jane swallow down a lump in her throat. The weight on her chest shifted as he leaned over to whisper in her ear. The next words would be meant only for her. "Give me your hands and I promise I won't kill him," he said applying pressure to the scar on her right hand with his thumb and forefinger.

Instantly she knew what he was asking. She knew the price she would have to pay to save Gabriel's life. As Hoyt straightened she met his eyes and could only nod, afraid her voice would betray her. He let out a laugh of pure joy and reached for a scalpel that had been laid out on her coffee table. Jane hadn't noticed them before. There were five more lined up on the glass. With one swift motion he cut the tape free that had been binding her wrist together. "Let's go," he said in anticipation.

Taking a moment to steel herself, Jane looked up to the confused and terrified face of Gabriel. He had been watching the exchange intently and knew she had agreed to the killer's terms, but was still in the dark about the details of those terms. Slowly, Jane raised her left hand up over her head and opened her palm. The motion sent muffled screams and sounds of struggle from across the room, but Jane didn't flinch, didn't hesitate.

White hot pain exploded from her hand as Hoyt brought the scalpel down with such force its point embedded itself into the hardwood floor. She would have screamed if a hand hadn't been suddenly covering her mouth. Hoyt wasn't stupid. An apartment complex was less than ideal for the torture he liked in inflict. Thin walls; neighbors above, below and all around. He had to control the noise until he was ready to move along.

"Now the other hand," he requested breathing hard. Jane could feel how excited he was getting and felt bile rising up her throat. She tried to swallow it down, but lost the battle as she turned her head to expel the fluid. She hadn't eaten all day and was grateful for that small comfort. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry," Hoyt cooed, wiping the side of her mouth with his hand.

Moving her head away, his hand followed and she gave up, closed her eyes and tried to settle her stomach.

"The other hand," he demanded again.

Jane made eye contact with Gabriel one more time, trying to draw strength from knowing her actions may save his life and tried to communicate her acceptance of her fate. If Hoyt kept his word, she didn't want the guilt to overwhelm the agent. Her eyes never wavering, she placed her right hand above her head, palm open. This time, she didn't need to be silenced. The pain was such a shock she passed out before a sound could escape her lips.

-/-

Jane came to, a weight moving on top of her. She understood instantly what was happening, the apprentice likes his women lifeless and unmoving she thought. The pain at her waist and the feeling of cool air washing over her bare legs confirmed her current predicament. A shift in weight jostled her hands, making her cry out. The man on top of her gripped her throat squeezing her air way. Jane didn't fight the affects. She much preferred to be unconscious for the rest of his time with her. This time, she welcomed the darkness like an old friend.

-/-

Coming around again, Jane's eyes slowly opened. Moving just her eyes, she tried to locate their captors without calling attention to herself. The light of dusk was seeping through the curtains and she knew their next move was to relocate her to continue the torture. Not sensing their presence, she slowly turned her head to check on Gabriel. He looked defeated. Tears had washed away lines in the dried blood on his face. The anguish she felt as they made eye contact was more than she could bare and she turned away but elicited a sound of protest from the man who was wracked with guilt.

The door to the fire escape opened, Jane knew it was time to say good-bye. She glanced down and was relieved to see her pants were covering her again. A shadow made her look up and she saw Hoyt standing over her. "Ready to go, baby?" he asked, the familiarity causing her to grimace. With some careful manipulation, he freed the scalpels from the floor, but left them firmly embedded in the palms of both her hands. Jane wasn't sure if she was grateful she was spared the pain of removing the instruments or annoyed at their continued presence. In one swift motion, Hoyt place his hands under her arms and lifted her onto her feet. Her knees buckled and she leaned heavily against her demon. "Shh, I got you baby," he cooed caressing the back of her head.

She was too weak to protest, but Dean did enough for the both of them as he suddenly came alive. The apprentice moved in front of him, swiftly injected him with something, and hoisted the limp body over his shoulder.

"No," Jane protested. "We had a deal."

"I promised not to kill him," he explained. "He's coming with us."

-/-

Maura Isles forcefully ended her call after hearing Jane's voicemail pick up. She knew it was early, but her friend's bravado in the face of Charles Hoyt had left her on edge. She could at least answer the phone, Maura thought.

As the light she had stopped at turned green, the ME made her decision and turned sharply across two vacant lanes. The early hour left the normally bustling intersection barren. She'd just have to swing by Jane's place on the way to work. Along the way, the stately homes of the more well to do neighborhoods gave way to modest homes occupied by the city's working class. Blocks peppered with houses and apartment complexes provided a sense of normality. Something that intrigued Dr. Isles. Normal wasn't a state she inhabited and she knew it, and yet her friend Jane Rizzoli still accepted her as she was.

Entering a familiar stretch of road, the ME realized she needed to develop a convincing reason for the early morning visit. Rizzoli had been battling inner demons leading to some borderline irresponsible decisions about her safety; and she hadn't been reacting well to anyone questioning those decisions. Glancing down at her Armani dress and Louboutin heels, she couldn't claim a morning jog had brought her. Before a plausible excuse could present itself, she heard her phone ring. Without looking at the caller ID, she assumed it was Jane returning her call. "Jane, you promised to call me when you woke up," she admonished.

"Dr. Isles, its Detective Frost," the deep baritone voice interrupted the ME's lecture. "You need to come to Detective Rizzoli's apartment.

At that moment, Maura cleared a curve revealing a sea of police lights. Without a word, she hung up the phone, hastily parked the car and ran for the apartment building. Chest heaving from adrenaline, she took the stairs two at a time and skidded to a halt in front of the open door labeled number 12 with brass numbers. From the open door, she could see blood pooled on the living room floor, blood drops scattered throughout the apartment, and, with relief, noted the absence of any arterial spray. Frost met her at the door. "Where's Jane?" she demanded with more strength than she felt.

The detective shook his head handing her paper shoe coverings, "We don't know. We're pulling surveillance video from all the surrounding cameras right now. CSU hasn't arrived yet. I came by about 10 minutes ago when she wasn't answering her phone and her landline was dead."

Maura took in the information as she placed the protective booties over her shoes. Moving slowly, she tried to put the pieces she was seeing together. Drawn to the pools of blood on the floor, she studied the pattern. There were two large pools, about two and a half feet apart. Each one had a void of blood in the middle where it had clotted and begun drying. The wood had fresh chips removed. Dr. Maura Isles never jumped to conclusions, but in this moment, she didn't feel very much like Dr. Maura Isles. "Oh god," she breathed, placing a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Frost hesitantly asked, unsure if he wanted to know what the ME knew.

Maura stood straight and looked at the young detective. "Her hands," she whispered. "He did it again." Noting the blood drops around the area, she determined the directional indicators and followed them around the couch to the kitchen. "They went out the fire escape," she told him.

Moving back to the living room, Maura did her best to avoid looking at her companion. She was certain she couldn't handle the emotions playing out on his face in that moment. She needed a clear head. Looking at the couch she saw blood drops on the cushions with a telling void. "Someone else was here. Did someone stay the night with her?" she asked finally looking at Frost.

Nodding his head, the sadness was almost tangible. "Agent Dean came by last night. Jane—" his voice cracked, "Jane told me to go home. That the two of them were going to work on the FBI case."

Moving to his side, Maura placed a steady hand on her friend's shoulder. "This isn't your fault, we'll find her," she said with confidence. 'They had to,' she finished to herself. "It looks like they both left here alive, injured but alive. And judging by the blood drops leading to the exit, they can't be very far. Maybe 30 minutes away."

With that information Detective Frost sprung to action. Grabbing his radio he started issuing orders, "I need barricades and checkpoints in a 40 miles radius of this crime scene immediately, and where the hell is CSU?" he demanded.

"Here," a voice answered from behind them. A CSU tech was donning gloves and protective foot coverings outside the threshold. Picking up his case, Maura crossed the room to meet the skinny analyst. She knew him well, a professional scientist, methodical. She didn't have time for methodical…if Jane could see her now she thought.

"Ted, give me your UV light," she demanded. She needed to be the one to confirm her suspicions before anyone else arrived. Taking the compact light that was offered, Dr. Isles moved to the third blood pool. It was much smaller than the two from Jane's hands, and the location was telling—roughly four feet down the midline. Turning the light on, bright blue spots fluoresced. Evidence of seamen. Maura stood, returned the light to the tech, and in hushed tones instructed him to take swabs of the examined area for DNA samples.

The CSU tech's eyes grew wide with understanding.

Moving to Frost's side, she tried to avoid his questioning gaze. "They raped her," she announced quietly and Frost moved to leave the apartment to get some air. Maura rested a hand on his arm to stop him. "This isn't a homicide, you should get a different team to investigate this. You should call the FBI," she instructed.

He could only nod as he left the apartment, leaving Maura and Ted alone with the evidence. Maura scanned the floor once more and noticed the analyst was collecting samples near the large blood pools. Bile. How had she missed that? It was a sign that Barry wasn't the only one compromised by emotions. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she moved toward the bedroom.

The bed didn't look like it have been slept in, but the quilt was disheveled with a throw blanket bunched up at the end of the bed. She imagined Jane and Agent Dean relaxing on the bed, talking, maybe more. An illogical burst of jealously hit her, which she dismissed. Just because they were best friends didn't mean she owned the sole rights to comfort Jane.

Moving further into the room, signs of a struggle near the night stand were evident. Someone tried to get to the phone. Knowing what Detective Frost had said about the landline, it wouldn't have helped even if they reached it. So they must not have had their cell phones handy. "Damn it Jane," she breathed. Her friend let her guard down, and anger toward Agent Dean replaced the jealousy.

Sensing a presence behind her, she turned quickly and saw Vince Korsak at the bedroom door. "Sergeant, you shouldn't be here," she said focusing on the gaze covering his own wounds sustained from the current case. Shifting her gaze back to his eyes, the look on his face stopped any further admonishment. None of them should be there. Nodding her head in acknowledgement to the unspoken conversation, she turned back to the bedroom. "Signs of a struggle by the night stand. It looks like they were taken by surprise."

"They?" Vince asked. The information hadn't spread through the unit yet.

"Agent Dean relieved Detective Frost last night, he stayed with her in the apartment," she explained.

Vince nodded stepping into the room, "Only one person struggled," he noted.

Maura realized the truth of his statement, "Only one of them was able to fight back." They exchanged knowing looks. Then steeling herself, the ME knew the next piece of information needed to come from a friend, "He did it to her again," she told him. "Her hands."

Anger flared across the detective's face, "Why didn't I kill him when I had the chance?"

"I think there will be enough blame to go around, focus on getting her back," she offered.

-/-

Jane grunted as she rolled in the back of the van as the driver took a hard right turn. She heard a curse and the faint sounds of sirens. Roadblocks, she thought and hope sparked within her. Her team knew. They'd find them. She just needed to stay alive. Looking around the van she tried to find something useful. Gabriel was still out cold, but seemed to be coming around.

The van slowed, she feared they were stopping. She wasn't ready, they weren't ready. But with relief, the vehicle accelerated once again. This time, it felt like they were on a dirt road. And then branches hit the side of the vehicle. The forest reserve, it had to be to only place left for them to run to. Glancing back at Gabriel she saw his eyes looking back at her and then his gaze shifted to her hands. Scalpels protruding from the bleeding wounds. Jane knew they were her only hope. Bracing herself, she grabbed one with her teeth. Dean grunted next to her. She didn't know if it was a good grunt or a bad grunt, but he had to trust her.

With a swift pull the blade was out and she was seeing stars. At the same moment, the van was slowing again. They were running out of time. The thought provided a needed burst of adrenaline, keeping her conscious. Jane made quick work of Gabriel's bindings. His hand griped her forearm. Had it only been a few hours since she had done the same to him, stopping him from leaving her apartment? Guilt and regret flooded over her, if only she had let him go, he wouldn't be here with her. "Shh, I think we're stopping," she whispered. "It's the forest reserve. Surprise is the only advantage we'll have."

He nodded his understanding, leaving the tape over his mouth and shifted to obscure the cut tape around his knees and wrists. All they could do was wait for the opportunity and hope they both got out of the van alive.

-/-

Frost watched multiple video files run on his computer screens. Reviewing the video surveillance was the only useful thing he could do at the moment. The FBI was taking over the crime scene, and every available unit had cast a thorough net around the targeted radius. Unfortunately, even his current task was proving difficult. His mind would drift back to his partner's apartment and cause him to miss minutes of footage. Cursing, he'd back the tape up. As far as he was concerned, he had already failed Jane once, he could not overlook a millisecond of tape.

Suddenly he caught a glimpse of something in the bottom right window. A familiar black van with the Medical Examiner seal on it. But there had been no reported deaths the night before. Even if it wasn't a suspected homicide, there would have been a report in the morning blotter had the ME's office been dispatched to pick up a body. Pausing all the cameras, he followed the black van through the video feeds.

"Did you find something?" Korsak asked behind Frost.

Barry wasn't surprised to see Vince in the bullpen. He had likely left the hospital AMA after learning Jane was missing and he had likely left the crime scene for the same reasons Frost had. "I think so," Frost said returning his attention to the monitor. "Find out if the ME's van was used for any official business last night?"