DISCLAIMER: I do not own this show, the books, or these characters. I only borrow them.

Chapter 3

Maura Isles stood stunned and shocked, not knowing what to do as her friend was whisked away by ambulance to the nearest trauma center. She could hear the cops around her talking. She heard the Police Chief shouting out orders. The gruff voice of Vince Korsak verbally opposing a few such as sending a near rookie to inform the Rizzoli's about their children. "Sir, as Detective Rizzoli's partner, Frost should be the one to inform her parents. They know him." He thought as Jane's partner, Frost should be the one to deliver the heart-breaking news. He kept unspoken the other thought, that Frost wouldn't want to be seen as a bad partner by losing his lunch over blood and guts spilled, some of which were Jane's. His thoughts were pushed aside as the Chief wanted his detectives on the case not doing the jobs the rookies could.

She prayed to all the world-wide gods that her mind could recall in that brief moment, not really because she logically believed in them, but because it was the only thing she felt she could do for the two Rizzoli siblings. Then she thought of how logical science and medicine was over that...she could do what she always did...make sure all the facts were collected precisely as she noticed all the evidence on her dress and hands, remembered the blood and body in the morgue, and knew she had evidence of the facts of the day in her head that she could relay to the police. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked back into the building with renewed hope to help by giving Detective Korsak her statement of the day's events.

Internal affairs, the media, and the general public would be clamoring for answers.. They always did when cops fired their weapons, and man did they fire, one cop even at his fellow officers. So the investigation of the day's events needed to be precise and exacting...Maura could do that well. Her friends might not have been able to give their statements, and might never be, but Maura wanted the officials and anyone else who might look at the details of the case to know what a good job Detective Rizzoli and Officer Rizzoli did during this crisis.

SWAT had moments before clearing the building of any additional infiltrators, but to help with the investigation and knowing where everyone was the elevators were shut down and cops were posted at the stairwell entrances to make sure that only those cleared to get through could. One shooting death of a Boston cop sent the masses scrambling to try and piece together what happened, now with more dead and injured in their own house and learning one of their fellow officers might have been the ringleader made all the officers now profoundly aware of their duty. At the entrance to the first floor stairwell, that hyper vigilance almost got the officer on duty decked. Korsak went to opened the door and the young man nearly squeaked out, "I need to see proper identification."

It was procedure that on any call the detectives and medical examiners would need to show their ID. Even if they were known. It was necessary to keep out pushy news reporters, or loved ones that might end up being the culprit. The police had already been lax on procedure today by leaving headquarters so empty; they did not want to be caught snoozing on the job again. The problem came in the form of an enraged Detective Korsak as he had just seen his former partner get shot, and now just wanted to do anything he could to help make sure that she was cleared of any wrong doing the brass might think she did. It also stung to be reminded that their place of work was now roped off by yellow police tape as it was the scene of so much violence. He wanted to say "here's my ID," and punch the cop. He definitely wouldn't be forgotten by that officer, but he also just wanted to carry on with what he could do here. He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out the gold shield to show the officer. The kid took little more then a cursory look before he turned to Maura. She held her still bloodied hands up to show she didn't have any ID with her as it was still in the morgue, in her purse, until she would have needed it at an off-site case. Before the kid could bar her passage Korsak pushed through with her yelling back, "Just going down to interview a witness." Maura knew that's what she was but hearing him state it out right slammed the reality home even harder.

The door clanged shut behind them and the silence between the two was suffocating so Maura tuned in to the other sounds in the stairwell. Above her she could hear clicking of a camera, heard a masculine voice talking to someone else about the blood smears on the wall. The only positive in this whole situation, she mused, was that the bodies would not have far to travel to get down to the morgue. She knew her assistant, Yoshima, and the other Medical Examiners in the office were probably already either in their cars or still getting a phone call to come in. There would be many bodies to process and she would probably be taken off all of the cases as she was a bit too close to the situation. If anything would need to go to trial they would rip her apart if she was both a witness to the shootings and also a witness to the deaths as an ME. Today she was stripped of her degree and expert status of witness and replaced as a victim. She loathed that, but she would be as much of an 'expert' witness as she could be in that new role.

They continued down the stairs and down the hall to the morgue. She remembered walking down the hall earlier. She looked at the circular clock hanging on the wall and realized that not much time had past since she last entered the double doors. She was starting to get the bigger picture of the cops' need to reclaim their haven, to take back and restore the normal peace to headquarters. She could understand it because walking into the autopsy room she wanted to do the very same thing. She wanted very much to grab the pressurized water sprayer to clean off the blood, Frankie's blood, marring the metal table in the room.

She also wanted to take back her position as an ME and was tempted to go over and perform the necessary tasks of declaring that the body lying on the floor was dead. But she knew he was, and she didn't need a reading from the body to give her time of death as she noticed the time when she followed Jane and Marino out of the room, so again she was reminded she was too close to the situation. Another reminder came because for once she wanted to remove a dead body from her previously safe haven. Never before had see felt anything less then professional for a corpse.

While fear was one of those pesky emotions warring in her brain, oddly humor was trying to peak out. Her detached mental ramblings saw the crumpled body lying near the autopsy table and she noted how it seemed like the man was trying for one last attempt to live by rolling off her table. She tried not to laugh hysterically as the day started to catch up with her. She knew she was tired and holding on only by a thread. She had always thought the dead should be given as much respect and dignity that she could muster as she stripped them of everything in her thorough search for cause of death: from their clothes, to any vices such as alcohol or drug use, to external and internal scars they might have never wanted their loved ones to know about. She got on most all of the cops at least once, and even a few of her medical interns, to leave the humor they used to distance themselves from the horrors they saw at the doors to the morgue.

But she needed to let the crime scene unit do their part of this. Korsak quietly asked one of the techs to come over and get any usable evidence from Maura that they could so she could clean off her hands at least before he took her statement. She stood still as Mike took her picture from various angles to note all the blood on her hands and dress. She thought of Jane joking that she always looked ready to walk a runway as a model. This was not the type of pictures either of them expected her to be posing for. He took a sample of the substance on her hands before letting her go over to the large metal sink to finally clean up. They all knew it was Jane's blood, but they were not going to let any stone go unturned or any piece of evidence not be logged. Maura mused that for once Jane was getting her wish, Dr. Isles did not need to see the test results to know the stains on her dress and hands were blood.

It was the least they could do...it was all they could do. The cops would bury the brass and the public in facts and tests and forms, but they knew that even that might not be enough to quell the fear and complaints that the public might raise.

Maura turned the water to near scalding and fiercely scrubbed at her hands for a few minutes with the harsh antibacterial soap they used in the morgue. She noticed that the soap and water wasn't doing the trick in all the nail cracks and crevices so she hurried across the room almost frantically to grab up a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide. With her hands shaking, she poured the bottle over first one hand and then the other and watched as the bubbles formed, and her thoughts flickered back to a calmer and happier time.

-2 weeks prior to shooting-

Maura was relaxing at home. One of those rare moments she was able to grab for herself. She sipped at the glass of red wine she had precariously perched on the edge of her large garden tub between sips. She leaned back enjoying the rose scented bubble bath with her eyes closed to shut out the gruesome images of the mutilated corpses she was brought in to help with today. She listened as she heard the jiggle of keys being dropped on her dresser. She heard the slight squeak of her bathroom door being opened and the rustle of clothes as a person slipped into the room. She smelled a hint of cologne and she opened her eyes to smile up at Frankie Rizzoli as he lowered himself and sat even more precariously on the edge of the tub than her wine glass did.

"I never did understand why you need such a large tub," he knew something was coming when he saw the smile widen and the glint on humor that sparkled in her brown eyes.

"It's so I can do this."

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. He probably should have prevented her from being able to pull him in as he was still dressed in his full police uniform. He could have planted his feet firmly on the floor knowing that he could over power her efforts from that odd angle, but it was rare to see Maura in a playful mood as she was always so held together. He thought the wine might have something to do with it. He wondered if she was up to one glass too many, but he stopped wondering or caring as he felt her warm lips close on his.

Neither seemed to care that water spilled over the edge as his weight displaced it. Nor that the wine glass was whisked away by the tub sized tsumani. They were too busy enjoying each other and an interesting bubble bath than to care as the red wine swirled together with the water drenching the floor.

She saw the red mixed in with the water swirling down the drain and wished she could have kept her mind reliving the distant past over the recent past that she needed to give a statement on. But instead of seeing wine and bubble baths she was now again seeing blood as it bubbled up and out of Frankie's mouth as he struggled to breath.

Angry at herself and the situation, Maura quickly glanced to notice that her hands were finally free of blood, before she tore across the room to grab a scrub suit before disappearing into the lady's room across the hall. A few minutes later a red-eyed, disheveled doctor came out of the restroom wearing the drab green outfit that did nothing for her figure, and carrying her soiled red and white dress she had so carefully chosen that morning and her golden high heels. She deposited the clothing into the waiting hand of another CSU tech than from before, she glanced into her usual domain but rather than walking back in she left the mass of investigators and arriving MEs to deal with the bodies and the collecting of evidence. She turned and walked barefoot back to her office.

Korsak noticed the exchange of clothes from his perch on Dr. Isles' normal chair in the morgue, and then quickly jumped up to hurry after the doctor as she wasn't coming back in like he expected. He noticed Frost's relieved expression to be getting away from the latest dead bodies from the building, but Korsak was proud at how well he seemed to be dealing with the carnage. He assumed it had something to do with Frost's fear and desire to help his partner giving him a new sense of purpose and strength. He assumed so at least, because he felt that same fear and desire. He mused that they now had something else in common other then just being partnered with Jane Rizzoli at one time or another...the fear that they might lose that partner. His usual cop's manner of deflecting the bad with humor came out as he thought that Jane had better get well, else he might be partnered with Frost... in mock horror he shuddered, or was that from the seriousness of the day?

As Maura walked to her office she thought on how odd it was to have changed into scrubs to get out of a messed up outfit, rather then the normal actions of putting on the garb to prevent the staining of her good clothes. But today had been totally off kilter so what was wrong with one more backwards action. Like leaving the the entire mob of investigators in her morgue as she left them alone, at least until she heard the labored breathing of Detective Korsak as he hurried to catch up with her.

Maura walked into her office and looked at the cheery decor. Her potted ficus plant in the corner and the framed prints of flowers had always been a way to bring life into her job and office that was full of death. However those same images today made her think about gaudy mylar balloons and vases of flowers kept in a hospital gift shop to try and help heal the mind and body of those laying in bed. Or worse, the pictures reminded her of huge floral arrangements at a funeral. She briefly thought about sitting behind her desk to avoid seeing the pictures and as a way to take back some of the power and authority that was stripped from her this harrowing day, but instead decided for comfort and sat stiffly at one end of a well worn couch with her bare feet tucked up under her.

Korsak swung around a sturdy chair placed across from Dr. Isles desk for when family or colleagues would come to talk about a case, and he plopped in the chair while starting the awkward conversation, "We can wait to get your statement til later if you want to get over to the hospital." He nodded toward Detective Frost who had quietly entered the office and closed the door behind him before he sat down on the other end of the couch. "Or we could question you there," Korsak continued knowing they all wanted to be at the hospital waiting on their friend and co-workers.

"No, recall is best as soon as possible as you well know in your job. But thanks for the offer." She tried to give a small smile. "Granted I might remember something of value later, but I might also forget something that would be pertinent to the investigation. Notes now might be able to help trigger something significant later if I forget." However she doubted that need. While fresh memories were clearer, she knew the memories of today would be firmly entrenched in her long-term memory in all it's gory images, shocking sounds, and the gut-clenching emotions that at times almost kept her from action. And she started the process of releasing all of those pieces of information as calmly as she could into the tiny tape recorder that Detective Frost had sometime placed on the coffee table in front of her.

Dr. Isles took a deep breath and tried to tackle this hurtle like she would when she was called in to be an expert witness in a trial. She tried to bury all emotions of the day and give the facts as she remembered them. "Other than just coming from the murder scene of a Boston detective, the day started out fairly normal. I came down to the morgue to see what new cases had arrived overnight. I was about to go get Mrs. Fredricks out of the freezer, but I wanted to check on Bass first...my tortoise," she added for the recorder's benefit.

"I leaned down to check on him. Before I rose I heard male voices, two different ones at least. There might have been more but that was all I heard before the gun fire. It sounded like they were trying to find something in the evidence lockers, but I can't be sure because I couldn't see them from where I was." Which was probably a good thing she finally realized as they couldn't see her either. They shot to kill anyone they saw. That was evident from the bodies that were littering the office building, and the injuries to Officer Rizzoli. Her breath sped up as the seriousness of the situation was finally able to take hold now that she was not fighting to survive and to keep another alive too.

Her desire to keep her recollection purely factual was hindered by the fact that it couldn't be as there were emotions and thoughts that played a part and they started to pour out before she could swallow them. "They didn't want any witnesses. Hence they came all this way to retrieve a camera." Her voice nearly cracked as the pitch changed as she realized how the day would have been changed, and she struggled to gasp for air and talk at the same time. "I wouldn't have been able to try and help Frankie...no one would have known that Marino was anything other than a brave heroic cop and so the Rizzoli's would for sure be burying two children..."

Before her thoughts could dredge up more horrific images, Korsak interjected to bring her back to focus on the present, "Doc...DOC!"

"Sorry," she rubbed her face with her now clean hand as it to scrub the images from her mind. "There have been studies about using beta-blockers to dull the emotional response when dealing with traumatic memories."

Korsak understood about four words of her little side note, but he nodded his head as usual as if interested and as if he understood. He knew and understood coping mechanisms well, and while the Doc had an odd one, he wasn't about to call her on it. "Do you need to take a break?"

She shook her head and gratefully accepted the bottle of water that Frost had retrieved for her while Korsak pulled her out of her thoughts. She went on in nearly moment-by- moment details: from the entrance of the three police officers into her domain, to the injuries and care that she provided to Frankie, to hoping she was stepping on the correct part of the radio, how some blood splatter on her clothes might be from the intruder laying on the floor of the morgue, and finally to Bobby dragging Rizzoli out of the room. She continued with the details of the shooting even though it had more witnesses then just her... like anyone who was watching the news.

"Good thinking on the radio...you would have made a hell of a cop," Korsak stated. It was high praise indeed coming from the gruff man, and on any other day she might have felt pleased. However she was back to feeling numb after ending her statement.

Frost and Korsak offered to then drive her to the hospital, but she knew she needed to change and get a quick shower first to make sure there was no evidence left on her that might worry the Rizzoli's even more then they probably already were. While she wanted to quickly get to the hospital to check on her friends, she knew that with their injuries it would still be awhile before anything would be known. She crossed to her office closet which contained anything she might need in an emergency for various locations or weather. She saw her long black wind breaker that was also water resistant in case it rained which was hell on the evidence that might be left on a body. An old winter jacket as she had known it to be a fairly warm sunny day once and after a long double shift in the morgue found the weather to be ghastly when she walked out of the building. Standing in the corner of the closet was a large black umbrella and even a walking stick in case the location of a dead body called for some hiking. She saw her line-up of spare shoes from another set of monotone heels if she was going to court, a pair of black flats with a good sole in case the ground might be slick, and even a pair of comfortable tennis shoes for those hiking excursions and when she found herself still standing over a body after a long tiring day. She reached in and grabbed the flats. She then grabbed the spare outfit: black slacks, and a red silk button up long sleeve shirt. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing the ivory button-up cardigan sweater she kept for when the coolness of the morgue overrode the heat her body generated from the hard work of cutting into bodies. She felt so cold today.

She left the two detectives sitting in her office as she hurried down the hall to a small locker room with showers. She scrubbed quickly and efficiently, letting the warmth and harsh spray from the shower head help warm her up and loosen the muscles that had been held taunt for too long as adrenaline had coursed through her to keep her ready for the fight-or-flight response she might have to quickly make. Stepping out she rushed toweling off and getting dressed so much so that her hair left a massive wet spot on the red silk shirt. She didn't mind the fogged mirrors as she was foregoing her usual make-up. She barely brushed her hair, just enough to make sure no major tangles were in it before she hurriedly threw it into a ponytail. She chuckled as she thought she was channeling her inner Jane.

Looking down at her outfit, she was glad for the comfortable sweater to not only clutch closed to keep her in a warm protective hug, but also because it hid much of the bold red of her shirt that was reminding her too much of blood at the moment.

Maura left the two men sitting in her office while she went to get a hurried shower. For awhile the two sat in silence, glancing around the room to see what they could learn about the medical examiner from her office space. But all too soon they needed to do something to help out somehow...anyhow. Korsak spoke up first, "So what do we do with the turtle?" as he knew the Doc would want to check in on her friend and she shouldn't have to worry about a sick pet too.

"Tortoise," Frost quickly said back, "...did I just say that?"

"Must be spending too much time in the morgue around the Doc," Korsak chortled. "Still doing that 'immersion' therapy crap?" He asked half-heartedly as he grabbed Dr. Isles cell phone that was sitting out on her desk. He started down the contact numbers hoping to find a vet or 'turtle-sitter' ...fine 'tortoise-sitter' his mind filled in as he rolled his eyes. He laughed when he got to Rizzoli. "Poor Jane, can't get any peace from the doc. She'd track her down through family members if she had too." He didn't bother to wonder why only Frankie's number would be in her contacts and not the parents too if it was only to track down his previous partner. But he was on a mission so he only glanced at Rs briefly as he hoped...yes, there it was labeled neatly under V for vet. Without even thinking of using another phone, he hit the send button and placed Maura's cell phone to his ear.

Korsak talked to the vet about having a sick 'tortoise' he sneered as he said the word. It was easy to set up about dropping the pet off as Maura had been in there before. He was about to end the call when he remembered another pet, "Do you mind watching a small mutt too?" Jo was going to need someone to feed and walk her for awhile as her owner was going to be laid up for awhile...least she better only be out for awhile and not out for good or he might have to find a way to bring her back so he could take her out himself for the grief. He heard the lady on the other end of the phone line start to say something about not being a boarder so he continued, "well you see there was a shooting..."

"The dog?" The lady sounded worried

"No, the owner..." before he could say more he was asked to hold.

The vet came back on a moment later and mentioned that they usually only boarded ill animals but she would make an exception while she was tending Bass. She knew Dr. Isles well, and knew she worked closely with the police. She had also earlier listened to the breaking news about a shooting on her radio as she was waiting for her next 'patient'. It was one small thing she could do for the police who not only protected her place of work, but also her neighborhood...at least not all the public was out for blood Korsak mused.

Before they hung up, Korsak was given the address for the vet, and also the number for a general animal sitter that she knew Maura had used in the past so they could work on getting something more long term set up. Korsak thanked her for the pets, their owners, and his own sanity in at least having one dilemma solved for the time being.

Not long after the odd phone call with the vet, Maura walked back into her office and grabbed her purse to signal to the guys it was time to head out to the hospital. Standing up next to the doctor, Frost mused on her shorter then normal height. He wondered if it was just from flat shoes as he was used to her augmented height from her usual heels, or if it was from the situation pressing down on her. Or a combination of both his mind threw out as he followed the mournful pair already walking to the stairwell.

The uniformed officers came into the Dirty Robber Bar and Grill and saw the tear stained face of Angela Rizzoli and the angry visage of her husband, Frank. They wondered briefly if the news had already reached them about their injured children, but learned that was not the case as the bar owner, Murray, told them the party was canceled since the guest of honor wasn't coming. They continued the torturous walk toward the couple... this was the worst part about being a cop, telling the families about injuries and death of their loved ones.

Angela looked up as the men approached and seeing the serious and mournful looks on their faces, she froze in horror. There were only two times that she could think of that officers would look that serious without having their guns drawn: when they were coming to ask about the whereabouts of a relative or when they were coming to mention someone was seriously injured. Sadly she had been through both those situations. The former for her eldest son's latest DUI as he ran after the accident but a good citizen wrote down the license plate numbers, and the latter when the police informed her of her daughter's injuries from a perverse serial killer. She hoped that her eldest son had already gotten into trouble during his brief time out of prison and so was being sent back in. She felt back about wishing for that, but at least then she would know that all of her children were safe and accounted for.

"Mr. Rizzoli, Mrs. Rizzoli," the much too young officer in Angela's opinion started. She watched him take off his hat and run his hand through his hair as he struggled to spit out the message he was sent to deliver. "There's been an accident..."

She knew. She knew just as all mothers seem to have an odd intuition about when their children aren't well. She knew that the accident he mentioned had nothing to do with a car accident that Tommy might have already gotten into after getting out of jail and partying. "Was it Frankie or Jane?" her voice crackled as she quietly forced out the words.

"Ma'am.."

"Was it Frankie or Janie?" Angela all but shrieked when he didn't answer her quick enough. She felt her husband come behind her and place his hands on her shoulders to both give support and to have something to hold onto as they realized that this nightmare was a waking one.

"There was a shooting at headquarters, ma'am...um...they were taken to the hospital." She didn't care where it happened. In her annoyance at hearing what had happened as she was waiting to hear who it happened to, she missed hearing him say 'they'.

"Officer Frank Rizzoli was shot but he was wearing his vest..." the officer continued.

Her heart lightened a bit as she heard Frankie was wearing his vest. Of course. All police officers took it seriously when one of their brothers in blue were injured. It would be okay then. A few bruises, maybe a cracked rib, and she'd drag him home to feed him all his favorites and wouldn't let him leave the couch as she reminded him about his father needing help in the 'Rizzoli and Sons' Plumbing Company'. She hated to guilt her children, but she wanted to keep them safe, so she would do whatever that took. She grabbed her purse and started toward the door so she could get to her injured son's bedside as soon as possible. As she was passing the bar she glanced at the television hanging on the wall, and came to a crashing halt as she noticed the image of the police headquarters in the background. It wasn't the location that drew her gaze, but the struggling image of her daughter. She heard her daughter scream 'NO!' Heard the loud shot ring out and watched as her bleeding baby girl crumpled to the ground. She didn't realize she was stuck in a similar scene as she yelled out "No!" as she started to crumpled to the ground in tears.

Frank Rizzoli and the young police officer each grabbed one of Angela's arm to keep her from falling all the way to the floor. They helped shuffle her out of the door, and finally into the passenger side of the car. Frank always wanted to find a way to make his wife be quiet, he joked with her often about it, but this was not the way he had envisioned. He reached around her to fasten her seatbelt and while he was leaning over her he brushed the tears off of her damp cheeks with his calloused thumb.

The policeman was still hovering nearby, not really knowing what to do with this newest situation in his role as a cop. "I'll give you an escort to the hospital." He seriously stated to the rising man.

When the police officer was in his cruiser and out of view, Frank reached up and swiped at his own tears that were threatening to fall. While his youngest children had to be strong protectors for the citizens of Boston, he just had to be a strong protector for his wife and children. He hoped he would be strong enough for what was in store. He stepped into the driver side of their vehicle, started the engine, and slowly pulled out of his parking space. He wondered if he would be able to use the discarded 'welcome home' banner for any of his children. As he followed the blue flashing lights to the hospital, he hoped that this was not a precursor to another, more final procession.