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

Chapter 4

Maura hated sitting still, almost more then she hated not knowing something...and right now she was sitting in a sterile waiting area near the surgical bays not knowing if her friend or her lover were going to survive the night. And in great times of boredom and stress her mind always seemed to jump to the most random topics- currently she was contemplating the various chairs in hospitals. It seemed to her that the seating in waiting areas improved as the seriousness of the situation increased: from the hard plastic chairs in the emergency room waiting area which made those who actually waited need to add back pain to their symptoms when they were finally seen, to the flexible fabric seats near the labs and diagnostic imaging suites, and finally upholstered chairs and even a couple love seats for family members to huddle together on in the surgical ICU waiting area. Dr. Isles thought it was almost like the chairs were the only thing to provide comfort for when the situation warranted because medical training teaches one to be empathetic but also detached from the harshness the future doctors would encounter. She glanced over at one of those couches and saw the worried parents of not one but two critical patients. She knew she should say something in order to try to alleviate their fears, but she knew she had the same ones.

Maura wasn't the only one who hated not knowing what was going on, Angela Rizzoli wanted answers. She wanted to know what happened to her children, and the nurses couldn't tell them anything while they were still in surgery. While she hoped that the doctors took their time, as she knew from the little she had been told that both would be in surgery for awhile, she knew she couldn't wait much longer to hear something. She looked across the room at the usually poised and well put together image of her daughter's best-friend; she noticed the now haggard and worried women. She knew the ME had been through her own hell today, but she was also the last one with her babies and she wanted...needed answers. Her whispered voice sounded too loud as it pierced the deafening silence, "What happened to my kids? Will they be okay?"

Maura hoped the fierce woman was asking Jane's partner about the day, but looking up she saw the questioning gaze focused solely on her. She didn't want to go through the day again. She didn't want to deal with the stress, fear, and heartache that had caused a hormonal war waging in her body for most of the day. But she knew her friends' parents needed answers, and she was the best one to have them. She took in a deep breath, buried the emotions down deep, and pictured herself sitting on a hard wooden seat as she gave her medical testimony in court. The seats were a bit more comfortable, but the jury she needed to give her account to seemed much more formidable.

Again Dr. Isles started the retelling of the day's events, at least the pertinent medical events as the Rizzolis and even the two detectives near her were searching for answers. "Frankie was wearing his vest, but the blunt force trauma of the high-impact bullet still did some damage. When he took off his bullet-proof vest, there was a lot of bruising visible. I checked the normal ABCs: Airway, Breathing, Circulation. He was having issues breathing, and I was able to deduce, as well as I could without being able to get to the proper medical diagnostic machines, that he was suffering from a tension pneumothorax." She looked up to see if they were following her story so far and saw the confused, dazed looks staring back at her. Assuming that the only confusing was in the last part, she clarified and went on, "air was trapped in the lung cavity. It can be fatal in moments without treatment." She glossed over the fact that she at least saved him enough to let him get to the hospital for further treatment—partly because it was not the right time to try for a pat on the back like she had longed for growing up, but also because she wasn't sure if that was going to be enough to pull him through, and then what did it matter how far he did make it if he didn't survive overall. She went on to tell about chances of recovery and the steps the doctors were more then likely performing in the operating room to get him stabilized and moved over to ICU.

She was so not good at talking to non-medical personnel, as many doctors were not. It was odd learning all the medical jargon in their many years of schooling and finally in their area of training. To then be told after all the memorization and advise to bury the emotions, that you needed to tone down the medical technicality of your reports so a layperson could understand it and to be able to empathize with them as you told the dummied-down medical version of the tragedy that their loved ones were facing. She still had to work with the living, to give them answers to why their loved ones often died suddenly. But that seemed easier as they wanted and needed the answers, and she didn't have to worry about informing them of the tragic end of death as that was the one known in the picture.

Korsak was listening to Maura tell all the gruesome details of the injuries to Officer Rizzoli again, and he realized he didn't want to...he couldn't listen to that same account for his previous partner as well. He was surprised to look over and note that Frost was still listening and had only turned slightly paler then normal rather then the green-around-the-gills he usually looked when he was about to head for the nearest restroom, or bush as was often the case at a crime scene. He stepped out to go get some coffee for the group. He was feeling chilled. He blamed it on the heavy air-conditioning that all hospitals and medical offices seem to have to try and prevent the growth of germs, or so he was told once when he asked why it was so cold in an office more so than the chills from his 103 degree fever would attest to. He also decided to make all the drinks very strong. Least they could have that type of strong drink in the hospital, even though he was thinking most could use a harder drink then that.

Maura had less time with Jane to try and stabilize her, but she had seen enough in various autopsies to know that any bullet wound could be fatal given the right circumstances. "I exited headquarters in time to hear the gun go off. I know the bullet was a through and through because I saw where Bobby was hit with the bullet. So based on the entrance wound that I could see before applying pressure, and the entrance wound on Marino, I know the bullet traveled upwards but I'm not sure what all was hit without medical imaging or exploratory surgery; it's only speculation." And everyone knew she hated guessing, even logically worked out guessing that Jane Rizzoli seemed so good at. "The bullet entered under her rib cage." Which was a good thing as she had seen too many bullet wounds go fatal as the impact of the harder bone changed the trajectory through the body. "From the angle upwards I know it was a penetrating thoracoabdominal gunshot wound. It would have pierced the liver and diaphragm before it entered her chest cavity. If the bullet stayed on the right side of the body then it would have penetrated the lung before it exited the body."

Maura guessed she waited too long to say the next part in her train of thoughts because she heard the choked up voice of Jane's father ask, "And if it didn't?"

She was not good at the comforting words she knew he wanted. She was good with facts and truths. She stood up hoping that pacing would help burn off some of the tension she felt building in her muscles. "It could have hit the inferior vena cava, the major vein to the heart." Odd when that was the better of the 'bad' scenarios. "Granted I didn't see the exit wound," as she rolled Jane onto her back to let the ground help apply pressure to the bigger exit wound as she only had two hands. But even if she had, that wouldn't tell for sure how the bullet traveled if it changed paths after hitting one of the ribs as it exited the body. She didn't realize she started pacing the small room even faster as she thought about the kinetic energy tearing through the body as the bullet did. Which was why exit wounds were always bigger than the bullet's entrance wound. "The bullet could have hit her heart or spinal cord if it veered left of the entrance wound." Even if it stayed right it wasn't a guarantee that there wasn't cardiac or vertebral damage because of the kinetic energy of the bullet factored in. Her mind was focusing in on the possibilities so much that she didn't see Frost come up to her side.

"Doc...," as the word didn't seem to grab the doctor's attention, Barry Frost reached out and touched her arm with a quiet "Maura" to help pull her back from her terrifying thoughts.

Feeling the slight touch, the sounds finally pierced the fog of thoughts and she looked first to him and then to the grief stricken faces of Jane and Frankie's parents. She was used to the freedom in the morgue; the dead couldn't hear. She could spout out ideas without worrying that she would terrify the loved ones as they realized how agonizing the injuries before death were. She didn't have to worry about having a cheery attitude to help give the patients a sense of well-being and security that they had no right feeling with how bad the situation really was, as with Frankie earlier in her morgue. Now hours later she realized how detrimental it could have been for his drive to hold on through the pain and the suffocating moments as she pretty much just blurted out that without real medical intervention he was as good as dead.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. For telling too much. For not helping enough. For not loving their son enough—oh god, love, finally the word crashed into her in with full clarity and she might not get the chance to be the one to start those three words. Somehow the added 'too' seemed to make it easier to say back, and she finally wanted to say them first. And the correct answer to the question he popped a few weeks ago. She stepped backwards until she felt the back of her knees hit the chair and she crumpled into it, staring at her hands which only hours ago were covered with her friends' blood.

Korsak walked in with steaming cups of strong bitter hospital coffee. He knew right away he was glad he left on the coffee run as Frost was now his normal green-around-the-gills color, and the Rizzolis' looked even more terrified than before.

Maura wished he might have been a few moments earlier to prevent her from opening her mouth and inserting her foot. She could have taken a drink of the scalding coffee to prevent herself from speaking those harsh but truthful words that she couldn't unsay. She took the cup offered to her and wrapped her hands around it trying to soak in the warmth.

Angela Rizzoli was many things: an opinionated Italian woman, a brash Bostonian, a great cook, and a loving yet overbearing wife; yet first and foremost she was a mother. She could see the pain in the younger woman's eyes and her drive to comfort couldn't help but be pushing to the forefront. She slowly rose and walked over to the slightly trembling woman, sat down beside her, and reached over to grasp the hand that was moving between the coffee cup and wiping the sweat from her palm on her pants. She could see that the women her daughter talked about so often, and her son from the occasional times they found themselves working together. She knew that Maura had already saved them once three months ago by figuring out the picture stuff her daughter tried to explain but she never understood,. "Thanks for being with them today." She knew she couldn't be in there helping heal her injured children, like this brave lady next to her did, but she knew she could try to give her a little bit of comfort like she gave to her kids. She knew her children would want that, and at least it gave her something else to do besides staring as a plain white wall as the time dragged on.

It was about 45 minutes more of tense silence before the surgeon came in to inform the group about Frankie's prognosis. The surgery went well to repair the internal chest damage from the blunt force trauma, but the next few days would be critical as they waited to see if he would wake up and breathe on his own. He mentioned that that a nurse would come in after he was situated to let the family see him briefly.

Maura knew she could have told the family about her relationship with Frankie as girlfriend and almost-fiance status. She knew they would let her back to check up on him but she really wanted Frankie to hear her answer from her lips before she voiced them to the world. She knew she could try to use her doctor status to also get in the room. Let the nurses know that she was just checking up on a patient, as she did provide treatment earlier. But she knew that would be like a slap to the face of the surgeons as if she questioned if they did their jobs adequately. So instead she took the news to heart that he was holding his own in the Surgical ICU unit until they thought he was stable enough to move into a room, and he could have other visitors. She was still envious though as she watched his parents converse with the nurse who came in the room before they followed her to see their son.

Angela and Frank Rizzoli dutifully followed the night nurse down the corridor to the curtained off space in the Surgical ICU that would be his home for the next day or so while they watched for any signs that would show if his condition was worsening. If not he would be moved into a room. Even with the warning, they were both frozen in their tracks as they caught the first glimpse of their son since the argument earlier at 'The Dirty Robber." He was attached to so many tubes that they had no clue what all were for. A machine off to his right was breathing for him, to take the pressure off his healing lung as it regulated the amount of air supplied or so they were told something of the sort.

Angela walked over to her youngest child, glad to still feel her husband's strong hand on her shoulder. She needed his strength at that moment or she felt she might have collapsed weeping to the ground. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of having all of her kids safe at "home," at least in the same city if not under her roof. But tonight none of her kids were tucked in their beds at home. Instead two were fighting for their lives, and one was...well, one was somewhere else. She leaned over and gave her son a quick kiss to the forehead as it was the easiest place to reach that wasn't covered in tubes, tape, or bandages. She was glad his chest was covered up because she knew she wouldn't be able to bare seeing the bandages she knew would be there. She tried to pretend he was just sleeping, but the mechanical whooshing of the ventilators kept her grounded in reality. She wanted to say something to him about getting better but her throat was too clogged with a jumble of emotions.

Frank followed his wife into the curtained area with his son. He kept a hand on her shoulder to help hold him upright, knowing he needed to be strong for the both of them. He watched as his wife leaned down to kiss his son's forehead, and he felt tears start to stream down his checks as the reality of the day finally sunk in now that he was seeing one of his injured kids. Before either of them said anything to their son, he felt the presence of the nurse behind him. Their 15 minutes was up. His wife started to numbly follow the nurse back, and he slipped in to the place she had occupied before, leaned down and whispered, "You've got to get better. For your mom...for all of us. We love you, son." He wasn't the demonstrative type to his sons, but he too leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead before following the two women out of the ICU.

The two tear stained faced parents reentered the waiting area. The others wanted to know about Frankie but knew better to ask anything as the pair took up residence on the couch again and clung to one another as they wished to cling to their kids. And the silent waiting started once again for Jane.

Maura tried not to think about the day, but it was fresh in her mind. And with this new recollection of the facts she was reminded of something important. Bass. Now that caring for her friends was being taken care of by others, and her "job" of telling the cops and then the parents what had happened, she now remembered her tortoise. She worried because he was already ill, and then who knew what a smoke grenade would do to an animal. She felt bad as he had all but saved her life and she had forgotten him in the rush afterward. She didn't mean to break the silence, but she realized she did when shock and anger filled gazes turned her way after she said, "How could I have forgotten about Bass. I hope he's okay." Not the best thing to say when parents are in the same room worried about their children's lives. She was afraid the others might think she seemed more concerned over her pet than the people. But she knew the two lying in hospital beds would have understood her.

Angela was worried that her odd glance at the younger woman across from her put her on edge, but she was just shocked and amazed sometimes at what came out of the brilliant doctor's mouth. She didn't know that Bass was as much of a hero from the day's events as his owner was. So she wondered at how Maura's mind always seems to jump from topic to topic, even if logical to her and to maybe a few others in the world. But her Jane would understand, or at least fake it well.

Korsak spoke up, "I talked to your vet while you were cleaning up." He glanced to Jane's parents and hoped they didn't think about why the doctor needed to change earlier. "I told her Bass was ill and so would have someone drop him off. I also asked if she would watch Jo Friday as Jane wouldn't be able to. She agreed for while she's treating Bass, and then said you would know a pet sitter or whatever who could watch 'em both." He chuckled briefly from the only humorous part of this horrible day. "As we were leaving to come here, the brass turned the elevators back on as I guess they were too lazy to take the stairs. So I gave door boy Jane's keys and told him to go drive the two pets to your vet. I didn't get to punch him like I wanted, but he sure won't be forgetting me after today." He laughed again as he thought of the heart-broken expression on the kid's face when he knew he wasn't going to get to work the major case at headquarters as he was put on pet detail.

"Thanks, Korsak." Maura gave him a slight grin as it was all she could manage now that that fear was put to rest and the long emotional day was starting to catch up with her. Not knowing how much longer they would be waiting, she decided to try to get a little rest. She pulled together two of the chairs to face each other and curled up. Soon Korsak decided to do something similar by using another chair for a footrest.

However Frost tried not to laugh at the scene, 20 minutes later it was harder to resist from the two very different scenarios. Maura looked like she was curled up into a too small crib, hugging her knees to her chest in some odd version of comfort. Vince used the second chair for a footrest and was slowly sliding down as he fell deeper asleep. He thought breifly about going over and kicking Jane's old partner in the ass that was slipping off the chair, but it would be funnier to watch him literally crash and burn. That time came about sooner than just gravity would account for as Jane's surgeons came in. The noise startled Korsak and he slid the rest of the way out of the makeshift bed. The mood was too serious for anyone to laugh, but most had a glint of humor dancing in their eyes before they turned their quickly sobered glances to the newcomer.

Making sure they were all there for Jane Rizzoli, the surgeon started talking. Maura listened as he mentioned an emergency laparotomy to deal with the abdominal injuries. She tried not to react to his statement but she feared what it could mean for Jane's outcome as that was usually started if the patient was pulseless by the time they arrived at the hospital. As one team worked to repair the liver and diaphragm, another team of surgeons worked quickly to repair the right lung and the graze to the inferior vena cava. Just this once Maura wished she would have been wrong and the bullet could have traveled through without hitting any organs, but they were too compact inside the body for nothing to be hit. The surgeon mentioned that the right ribs 4 through 6 were broken on the posterior side as the energy from the bullet tore through her body, but luckily none of them were shattered as the bullet itself luckily passed between the 4th and 5th ribs. She heard him mention he was going to keep her in a medically induced coma for a couple days for some of the wounds to start healing and her body to get a break from the pain it would be in.

The parents were again led down the same hall, by the same nurse, to the same ICU area. This time they were led to a curtained off area a few beds down from their son. The same scene was carried out, and Angela might have thought she was in a time loop repeating the same moments, except for seeing the longer hair and the slightly softer angles in the face of her daughter. On the way back to the waiting room, Angela asked the nurse, "Is it okay for her friends to see her.?..I think they need to, and Janie would like the visitors."

The nurse agreed to 5 minutes each, and Maura let the two partners go first. She was oddly scared to think what she might find. Her friend was strong and courageous and she wasn't sure how she would feel looking on the same friend having a ventilator breathing for her and looking so pale.

Angela walked over and again squeezed Maura's hand knowing the fears as she felt them too. "She needs her friends." That was all that was said as Maura squeezed the hand back in thanks for the support until it was her turn to go back.

On the way to see Jane, Maura peaked through a few gaps in the curtained off areas until she got a quick glance at Frankie. He had more color than he did in her morgue and so her mood was lifted a little at finally being able to even glance at him. She continued walking even though she wanted to slip away and into his area, and a few more feet she found herself staring down at her friend. She didn't know what to say, so she started with the first thing that popped into her mind, "You don't have to worry about your dog. Jo and Bass are at my veterinarian's." She tried not to groan as it came out. She really wasn't good with talking to living people or dealing with highly emotional situations... and she really was awful when the two combined. She grasped her friend's hand, almost like Angela did with her moments ago, just being extra cautious about the IV tubes taped in place and the pulse ox monitor on her middle finger. "You better get well. I've never really had a friend like you. Most leave or I drive them away with my mannerisms. I can't lose you now." The room was quiet with only the punctuations of ventilators, heart monitors, and other monitoring devices, so she hoped her voice carried enough to be heard by her other true friend a few beds down. She couldn't deal with losing either as both seemed to have awakened parts of her she didn't know she possessed: a loving heart, a joy-filled laugh, and thoughts that focused on happy moments and not just on the dead. So not only would she lose them if something happened, but she would lose a part of herself that took 39 years to find.