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

Chapter 12

Frost pulled under the overhang at the main entrance of the hospital. He knew that Jane would already be nearby. He was running a couple minutes late from their designated meeting time as another detective waylaid him on his way out of the precinct. The question over a home robbery and lethal shooting took longer than he expected, and just reaffirmed that guns, especially in the wrong hands, took way too many lives. He had seen too many good men lose their lives in the last week because of guns, drugs, and greed. But there he was, stepping out of his car with his police issued Glock secured at his waist.

Without looking toward the doors, he knew that his partner was coming closer to the vehicle. Not through some sixth sense that seemed to develop between some long-term partners, but because he could hear her complaining loudly the whole way as the nurse pushed her in the wheelchair. "I can walk the last ten feet to the car, you know." He tried to stifle the grin that was threatening to overtake his face, but it was no use. At times hearing Jane complain could get on a saint's nerves, but it was great that she was awake now to be able to complain. Jane fighting, physically and verbally, was common. Her still and silent figure, first on the ground after being shot and then lying in the hospital bed, was scary as it was so far from the normal vibrant woman who was his partner.

He rounded the back of the car and finally saw the still much too pale Jane. He rushed forward to open the passenger side door. He saw the pain in Jane's eyes and wondered briefly which pain was worse, the emotional pain from losing her brother or the physical pain from her own injuries. Quickly he realized it didn't matter as either way she was struggling not to show what to her was weakness, so he tried to ignore the pained gasps and groans as the nurse helped transfer Jane from the chair to the front seat. He didn't offer to help yet. He knew he would need to help more than Jane would prefer once they reached their destination. He was glad when the nurse leaned over and worked on securing the seat belt on his partner as he was able to walk away from the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a lone tear break free from his eye and start the long trek down his cheek. He quickly swiped it away and tried to shove down his emotions as he went to the now empty wheelchair. He took out the remaining anger and worry on the chair as he forcefully tried to make the chair smaller so it would fit in his backseat.

The nurse stepped back from the now secured patient and watched as the tall, dark, handsome gentleman tried to force the wheelchair into submission. She tried not to laugh as she walked over and grabbed the middle of the cloth seat and pulled up. Easily accomplishing what the man was struggling to figure out. She saw an embarrassed blush on his cheeks as he grabbed the chair and shoved it in the backseat. As he shut the metal and cloth contraption in his car, she reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a small packet. Once she noticed the man's attention was back on her she instructed, "If you see any bleeding make sure to get her back ASAP or call for an ambulance. There are two pills in here," she said passing over the packet. "Jane said she didn't want any pain medication to dull her, but after a bit of movement she probably will whether she says so or not. So make sure she takes them both."

Jane might have complained about wanting to walk for Frost's sake, but she was secretly glad to now have the soft cushioned car seat under her. She closed her eyes against the pain and listened to the nurse and Frost talking. She wasn't able to see what the pair was doing. She already struggled to deal with the pain of moving and sitting upright, so she wasn't about to try turning around to look. Even the thought of reaching up to move the car mirrors to look sent a twinge of pain through her body so she just sat still and listened. But even with the pain she was already in, she knew she wouldn't want those pills she heard the nurse mention. She nearly growled, "I don't want any pain pills." Jane couldn't see the grins that her words caused the nurse and her partner.

Frost was too afraid to say anything else that Jane might hear and complain about. Not because he couldn't deal with her complaining, but because the normality of it might cause him to laugh out loud. He took the packet and nodded as he placed it in his right pants pocket. He walked over to the still open passenger door, and, seeing that all of Jane's limbs were safely in the car, he firmly shut the door. He hurried around to the driver's side and hopped in. The sooner they started on this foolhardy adventure, the sooner it would be over and Jane could be back where she belonged. As he started the car and pulled away from the entrance he turned a quick glance over at his abnormally pale partner. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Jane didn't even open her eyes as she griped back, "Just drive."

So Barry just drove in silence until they reached their first destination. He pulled into the nearest handicap space to the ramp leading up to the front door of the funeral home. While his plate wasn't designated for these spots, he was glad for the Fraternal Order of Police insignia on his license plate. No one would dare write a ticket on an injured officer, especially one trying to bury a slain officer.

Jane looked toward the long winding wheelchair ramp as she and Frost figured out how to get her transferred from the car seat to the wheelchair. She thought the ramp would be too long of a walk for someone with a cane or walker, but she was grateful that it was long enough to give her time to breathe through the pain while Frost was behind her pushing the chair forward. No wonder her grandparents would cringe when going out with the family as she and Tommy thought racing the occupied wheelchairs was great fun. The fact that the elder Rizzolis never cursed or yelled at their grandkids should have gotten them sainted. If every bump that Frost took delicately caused so much jarring, she could only image what going fast was like on the frail boned bodies of her elders.

When they reached the top of the ramp, Frost came in front of the chair to open then door and then stared questioning as the door closed again before he rounded to the back of the chair. Jane saw the puzzled frown on Frost's face. "Going backwards through a door is easiest." She remembered trying to pop her grandfather, Aldo Rizzoli, over a doorjam once and almost dumped him out of the chair as the smaller front wheels touched down. She tried not to curse out loud as Frost pulled her backwards over the small bump in the door frame. The jostling of the chair brought tears to her eyes.

The elderly gentleman that came out of a side room to talk to them saw the tears, but he saw many tearful faces in his line of work. He reached out a wrinkled hand to Jane, but his grip as he shook her hand was anything but weak. "Hello, my dear, I'm Mr. Dodson," he gave her a compassionate smile as he pointed to a small nearby sitting area usually used for grieving families. "Why don't we go sit over here and talk a bit?"

Frost positioned Jane in the wheelchair to face a small loveseat and chair set up before he gratefully sat down on the floral loveseat. Mr. Dodson sat on the plush wingback chair and grabbed up some papers that were sitting on a small side table. "Your father called me to let me know you were coming to ask some questions about this place, but I was hoping you would let me fill you in on some of the plans that your father and I talked about early this morning."

Jane was a bit taken aback by his forward thinking and compassionate tone that she found herself just nodding an affirmative.

"First off, we talked about how many people your father thought might come to the viewing. Seeing that your brother was a police officer, I know there will be a large crowd in and out, so I told your father about our larger viewing area." With this Mr. Dodson opened up a brochure for the funeral home and pointed to a picture of a large, well-lit wood paneled room with plenty of seating facing a coffin and various flower arrangements. "There is a back removable wall if we need to open up a larger area."

He paused to see if the injured woman sitting next to him would have any questions at this point, but she was still gazing at the picture. Her eyes zooming in to the closed coffin in the picture. "We talked about what type of coffin he would prefer. Your father didn't want anything too fancy, just a basic wood casket with simple lining. But he did mention cherry wood would be preferred as he mumbled something about pie."

For the first time since they sat down together, Jane finally spoke up even though she didn't take her gaze off of the picture. There was a small smile on her lips as she thought about the reference. "Frankie loves cherry pie. It's his favorite dessert, even though he will swear on his life that his favorite is really Ma's cannolis." Her chuckle died out as she realized what she said. Frankie didn't have a life left to swear on. She closed her eyes tightly to prevent fresh tears from falling. She would not be able to blame them on physical pain should they fall. The truth of the matter was sinking in so much clearer with this trip. Maybe she should have stayed on the pain meds at the hospital. That way she could at least still dream for a few more moments that she'd still get to see her baby brother wake up and start their usual banter.

Not wanting to make the young woman feel uncomfortable, Mr. Dodson went on. "Your father requested that if people called to ask about where to send flowers that I let them know that the family would prefer for a donation to be made in their son's name to the Boston Children's Foundation as your brother really liked what they stood for. I also mentioned setting up a box so people could put donations if they felt so moved. Do you any questions for me, my dear?"

Jane pondered the question for only moments before remembering meeting a shifty mortuary beautician by the name of Joey Valentine during 'The Dominator' case who made her want to come ask questions in the first place. "Have you done a background check on whoever fixes up the...bodies." She was a bit surprised to see an odd grin come to the old man's face.

"I've never had her checked out. But, if it would make you feel better, you can. Granted, I've known her all her life and the most trouble I've known her to be in was when she cut school in high school to go watch a movie with her friends." At the questioning glance from Jane he added, "She's my daughter, Cindy. But you can check her out. I don't think you would even find a parking ticket in her name."

Jane knew that often parents were blind to what their children might get up to, but she saw the sincerity behind the old man's eyes and even the fierce belief that he had in his daughter. "No, that's okay. I'll take your word for it." She saw Frost do a double take at that as he had never known Jane to take someone at their word.

They continued to talk for a few more minutes. Mr. Dodson seemed genuinely kind and caring and listened to her concerns about her brother's treatment. Maybe Jane would have been more on edge around the man if he was trying to sell her anything, but her father had already let those working here know what he wanted for his son. As Frost stood up and rounded the wheelchair so they could leave, the older man patted Jane's hand , "I'm truly sorry for your loss, my dear."

Jane saw the truth behind his kind words. Later she wouldn't remember much of the meeting, but she would never forget the sincerity of the man she met. He was not putting on a show as a salesman, but was just the caring personality of the eccentric Mr. Dodson. In different circumstances Jane felt she would have loved to get to know the tiny gentleman, but there wasn't much to love in this current situation.

With the funeral home passing Jane Rizzoli's exacting standards, it was time to leave. Again the harsh movements as they exited the building seared her damaged lung and pulled at the newer sutures. She could taste a hint of blood as she had literally tried to bite back any sound of discomfort. Her thoughts were so hazy from the pain that she didn't even remember Frost helping her transfer to the car. She was in so much pain she actually thought of asking for the relief disguised as two tiny pills in Frost's pocket. She wouldn't wish this pain on anyone, but that thought was quickly modified. She would wish this pain on her brother if it would mean he was alive and would heal. While she wouldn't want to see him in pain, it would be better than what she knew she would see in a few days at his funeral.

The thought of seeing her brother at the funeral brought a new fear to her mind. Jane feared seeing her lifeless brother and how she might react to that. He died in front of her so it wouldn't be a surprise that he was dead, but he would look so different: the paler skin, the lack of shine in his hair, to the closed eyes that would never 'smile' back at her. "Do you mind a quick side trip to check in with Dr. Isles?" She needed a chance to see her brother without all the gawkers that would be at the viewing or funeral. She needed a chance to say goodbye without worrying that she might break down in front of strangers, or worse, fellow cops.

"Sure. No problem. Just let me make a quick stop for gas." He heard the pain behind her words and knew that Jane could use a few moments to compose herself before seeing even more people.

Jane opened her eyes a bit and peeked over at the gas gauge. She tried not to smirk as the needle was only slightly past the half empty mark. Frost was as easy to read as a book, but she was grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Frost pulled into a nearby gas station and took his time filling the tank. He then washed the windows and wandered inside in order to give Jane some additional time and space alone. He browsed through the myriad array of junk food before ending up near the coolers. He grabbed a bottle of water, hoping that he could persuade Jane to take the pain pills. Looking out the window, he saw that Jane seemed to be having a heated discussion over her cell phone. He put down his loot and made a pit stop to the restroom hoping that Jane wouldn't still look so murderous in a moment, but when he came out he he knew that she was even angrier. He had stayed in as long as he really could under the guise of getting a drink and candy bar. He just hoped that she kept her rage at the person over the phone and not at the person closest to her as he got back in the driver's seat.

While Frost paid and pumped the gas, and then washed the windows, Jane kept her eyes closed and leaned back into the comfortable seat. She took a few shallow breaths as she worked on closing out the pain even knowing that it would come back stronger later. As the pain was pushed into a box to deal with later, other thoughts of tasks to perform pushed their way forward. She thought she would start at the worst and work her way to more pleasant tasks – calling her remaining brother so she could soon get back to the hospital and the painless promise of sleep.

She carefully got her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and found the new number that her father had programmed into her phone a few days ago. She hit the send button and heard the phone ring, once, twice. She hoped that her brother might not answer the phone, but that was not to be. On the fourth ring she heard a gruff male voice, "Rizzoli."

"That's my name, don't wear it out."Iit was a good opening considering her mind blanked for what she wanted to say.

"Hey sis. How's it going?"

That wasn't good. He sounded much too happy to know what was going on. Jane briefly thought that her brother might be drunk as he was a happy, goofy guy then. But he also would slur his words horribly if that was the case. Shit. Jane hated telling people in her job that family members had died. She really didn't want to have to do that her for own family. How does the asshole not know? "Has Ma or Pop tried to contact you recently?" She was sure they would have.

"Well, yeah. A few times this week." Tommy sounded a bit guilty at that question. "But come on sis, you know how Ma is. She tried to call soon after I told her I wasn't coming home. I couldn't take a guilt trip. It was bad enough listening to her crying that I needed to call her on the messages. My mind was made up about staying here."

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Jane took a deep breath and then said the next words harshly trying not to yell. "She was calling to tell you that Frankie and I were shot."

"Oh." There was a long pause and all Jane could think was that knowing her brother and his recent stint in jail, he probably had no love lose for injured cops, even if they were family. "Well hell, it couldn't be too bad as your up and yelling at me already."

If Tommy thought that her words before were yelled, he had another think coming. Not caring about the pain the forceful exhalation would cause, Jane finally did yell, "I'm only UP to check out the funeral home that Pop picked for Frankie." She was so blinded by rage and had her ears listening for the next stupid words to come out of her older brother's mouth that she didn't notice the wary look a woman shot the car as she passed on her way into the gas station nor did she hear the dog in the truck two parking spaces over that started barking at her raised voice.

The only words that came back over the phone was a muffled,"Damn it."

There was a louder thud and Jane wondered what her brother might have kicked or punched. But she also heard the hurt emotions in those two words from her brother and felt herself feeling sorry for Tommy having to learn so harshly over the phone. She lowered her voice, all the fight having been knocked out of her, "You should have called Ma back." Hell, he should have done a lot of things, starting with coming home and at least seeing his sibling again... while he still could.

The pair fell into a dragged out silence until Jane finally broke it, "The funeral is in three days. The viewing is the day before. I'm not sure Ma will let me out of the hospital until the actual funeral, but I will at least see you then." She was glad that the phone call seemed to be winding down as he was tiring to deal with even when she was at full health.

Tommy finally found his voice again, "Umm...I just started the program at the halfway house, and you know as well as I do that now, since I set up where I'm staying with my parole officer, that I can't really leave the county. I don't want my parole revoked."

Jane couldn't believe what she was hearing, even though she didn't know why it shocked her so much as Tommy only ever cared about Tommy. He never cared about following the rules, so she was annoyed that he used those as just his latest excuse in letting the family down. "I'm sure you could work it out as it's a family emergency. Let your parole officer know that you'll be surrounded by police, so it's not like you'd be able to break any of the main rules. Hell, maybe one of those officers would write a note on your good behavior to put in your folder to try to shorten your probationary period." At that point she was being sarcastic, but her brother seemed to miss the tone change as she was talking.

"Really?"

As usual, with a nice pay out, Tommy finally started to ponder if the pay out was worth his trouble. Jane was passed pissed. She didn't yell, but spoke in an icy tone that was more scary to anyone who knew her. "You know what? Never mind." And she pulled the phone away from her ear so she could hang up.

Before she got a chance to push the appropriate button, she heard the irritating voice of her brother. "Hey, Janie, can you put my name on the flowers from the family? I'm kinda strapped for cash still..."

Finally she cut the call short. She couldn't deal with the ramblings of her only living sibling.