DISCLAIMER: I do not own this show, the books, or these characters. I only borrow them.
Chapter 17
For awhile now, Dr. Isles felt like she was being watched. As she rounded the foot of the autopsy table with the body of 74 year old Mary Helmer, Maura noted a man standing in the hallway watching in through the clear doors. If he wanted something he could come in and ask or go down the hall to speak to the morgue secretary, so she went back to the rest of the external examination. She noted some bruising and swelling around Mrs. Helmer's right hip and right wrist. Based on the coloring they were new contusions; there was also a large skinned patch on that hand. There didn't feel to be a knot on her scalp. There was not any blood or wounds that she could see through the woman's white thinning hair. From the medical records that the hospital sent over, Dr. Isles knew that the patient fell stepping off a curb, and with her brittle bones from osteoporosis, she broke her right hip and wrist as she tried to break her fall. According to the x-rays in her chart, her right femur showed an intertrochanteric fracture, and while the x-ray wasn't clear on the fact the doctor assumed from her symptoms that her scaphoid bone in her wrist was also fractured. Those injuries landed her in the hospital, and now the family wanted to know if the hospital might be at fault for her death as she had been there for the last few hours of her life for what to them was a simple broken bone.
She had just finished the y-incision to start on the internal examination when the man in the hallway knocked on the glass to get her attention. "Yoshima, finish cracking the rib cage open. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, grab one of the other MEs to help finish with Mrs. Helmer." As she walked toward the doors, she started removing the still relatively clean paper gown, apron, and gloves. She tossed the soiled items in the red biohazard waste container and then stepped out into who knew what. "Can I help you?"
"Hello, Dr. Isles, I'm Dr. Laurence Zucker and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time."
"Yes, I've heard of you. Is my office okay?"
Being a good friend of Detective Rizzoli's, Dr. Zucker was sure that she probably had heard about him, and not in the best light. He was a criminal psychologist at Northeastern University who often worked as a consultant for the BPD on high profile cases: not only by helping to profile the suspect, but also by interviewing the victims. Not only did Maura know about him from conversations with Jane, but also from reading the reports on Charles Hoyt. Jane gave Maura an earful on how she hated shrinks, but he was especially annoying...more so because he treated her as a victim first and a cop second. And Jane had been stuck dealing with him as he determined if she was ready to go back out on the streets.
He nodded that her office was acceptable. A few times a year he would solely be called in to determine if a police office was mentally sound to carry a gun and be back on active duty, but he didn't think it was as interesting without the murder, mystery, and mayhem that he saw from deranged killers. While there were many officers and other personnel he would need to see after the shooting of a detective, and then the take over of headquarters, he knew after all that he would get to the real mental and emotional insights he was interested in...interviewing Bobby Marino to determine what would turn a good cop.
Even though she didn't carry a gun, Dr. Isles knew that he would still give her a cursory once-over in order to relay to her bosses that she wouldn't fall apart at a crime scene. For the last week she had just been working in the morgue and on the never ending research, viewing tissue samples, and reading toxicology reports to try and close the many cases still open. She led the way to her office. After opening the door and signaling for Dr. Zucker to enter, Dr. Isles rounded her desk to sit across from him. She closed the folders that were open on the center of her desk, moved them to the side, and gazed over at this interloper. This was her 'turf' as Jane would say, and with all the psychology classes that she also had, she wanted that bit of control and authority that the yard of polished hard wood separating them gave her. She wasn't about to sit on her couch like one of his normal clients. She saw the brief smile at the corner of his mouth and the crinkling around his eyes.
He knew what she was up to, but he was willing to concede to the point that she was making. They both knew why he was here, so Dr. Zucker didn't even bother with the usual introduction niceties. He had been given a brief overview of the doctor sitting across from him, and from watching her work, he knew that she preferred straight, to the point, and effective actions. "I was given the report of the hostage situation you were involved in two weeks ago. From what I saw earlier, you seem to be handling being in the same room fairly well. Have you noticed any major issues with being in the morgue since that incident?" First to determine that she could do the job, and then if she would fall apart down the road without further therapy.
Maura knew better than to say 'no, nothing' as that would just make him curious...even before she would have passed out from the lie. "Sometimes if someone is talking loudly near the evidence lockers, or one of the doors is slammed shut, I often find my pulse and breathing rate are elevated until I determine who is nearby. The first time it happened I was alone, like I was that day, and before I knew it I was ducking down behind the autopsy table until I realized the voice was one of the newer crime scene technicians. Greg, I think it was."
"How did that make you feel?"
Was that some quote that all therapists were taught to memorize and spit back like parrots? "I know that flashbacks are a normal occurrence after very emotionally charged situations. Plus they haven't happened often as there are usually people in and out of the autopsy suite with me, and the lights are full bright rather then the emergency backups, so it's easier to tell the difference in most situations."
"Those are facts. How did you feel?"
She hated thinking in terms of emotions. Even now Maura couldn't help but think about facts like Dr. Ekman and his Facial Action Coding System, FACS, that came about from his study on the 43 facial muscles and emotions. She thought about the seven basic emotions that had clear facial signals: anger, sadness, contempt, happiness, fear, surprise, and disgust. Was that why she had so much issue with 'love'...not as easy to define as a set of muscle movements or actions. Not as clear to see on others. Not as clear to learn how to act. According to Ekman, love was an attachment rather than an emotional state, even though it was emotionally laden; love was dependent on time and could make someone happy, surprised, or even sad depending on the actions of those attached. And Maura wondered which she was worse at...attachment or emotions. Before Jane, Maura kept most people at arms length so that strong attachments never formed; therefore there was less chance for strong emotions like sadness or fear...nor for happiness, but it was hard to change after so many years of protecting herself.
Dr. Zucker cleared his throat and brought her attention back by asking again, "What did you feel?"
"Fear...anger," at the intense questioning gaze she elaborated, "Fear because I remembered the gunshots. Anger that they were there with guns in the first place..." She lowered her voice, but it was still audible, "...at me for forgetting for a moment what was going on."
As a psychologist used to calming down or defusing those talking to him, he was about to tell her that the reaction was normal. But the medical doctor across from him already knew that as she stated; however, he knew all too well that often emotions seemed to outpace the rationale. "Any other changes in your daily routine: sleeping, eating, interpersonal relationships, or work?"
Maura liked how he worded that question. With the 'or' she technically only had to answer one part to still tell the truth. But which part? She didn't want to mention her difficulty sleeping. That would bring up that part of her issue that she was starting to sleep much better when she was around Frankie than not. That would open a can of worms that she was not prepared to try and deal with. She knew that once that can was open, it would be like the prank were the 'worm' springs would pop out at the unsuspecting subject...it was easy to open, but once opened it was difficult to close again. She didn't want to mention her issue of not really wanting to eat much either; there were so many emotions that seemed to churn in her gut that adding food to the mix was not tolerated well. She didn't want to mention relationships with how she had lost Frankie, or that she hadn't talked to Jane for the last week other then an odd text message here and there. She told herself that it was so Jane could heal, but she knew in the back of her mind that it was also so she could step back from the situation and slowly place all of the lost possibilities behind a solid batter-proof wall in her mind. She didn't want to mention that at work she would now only exit from the morgue bay doors because she knew that if she exited the main doors she would again be stuck seeing friend and fiend struggle for the gun and the resulting blood bath.
Thinking the the pause might be due to the generic question, Dr. Zucker asked, "From the report you filed, it mentioned that you needed to perform a few emergency procedures on Officer Rizzoli. However he still died a few days later. How are you coping with that?"
"Meaning what? Do I feel guilty that I didn't do enough that first time he was on my autopsy table? I know I did the best I could with what I had available, and without that he wouldn't have even made it off that table before the EMTs could get to him." She hoped at that moment that Dr. Zucker was in the 99% of people who could not see the quick micro-expressions that would clue him in to the sadness and anger underlining the surprise from his question. "I do regret that he died though." That was the understatement of the year. She also regretted not telling him 'I love you' when he could have smiled that goofy grin at her.
She tried to focus on something other than her regret due to Frankie's death. Granted, she didn't like where her thoughts went any better. Before Maura had always been in the smaller top percentiles on academic tests, graduating class, and IQ tests. She had always strived to be in them and secretly was happy that she was...but she wasn't happy at the moment that she was in the 1% who could spot subtle clues in facial expressions, voice cues, body language, and speech to know who was telling the truth. So was Hoyt. Just one more way that she was similar to him...Dr. Zucker would have a field day if he knew that Hoyt got in her head even that small amount after their last conversation. With his past interviews with Hoyt, his two survivors, and family members of those who lost loved ones because of him, Dr. Zucker would be interested to know how even without his scalpel he could still cut people apart. If he knew that tidbit, it would mean everything to him: more than Maura being held hostage where she was usually safe and where she still needed to be able to work; more than watching her best-friend get shot in a struggle for the gun; even more than if he knew what Frankie meant to her other than just her best-friend's brother. She schooled her features to make sure he was not clued in. That wasn't a lie. Just working out the various facial muscles, nothing more.
She changed the topic yet again as she started talking. It seemed like a safer, happier topic at the time. "Jane was the first real friend I've had. We didn't meet in the social circles I grew up with, so I knew that friendship was real and not just posturing to get something out of it." Maura chuckled a bit, "We didn't even get along the first few times we had to interact at crime scenes or in my morgue. It was refreshing to have someone tell me what they really thought rather then pretending to be friendly to get ahead."
"So how did you two end up as friends? I know Jane is not the easiest person to butt heads with at work." He was curious, but he also wondered at the major shift in the conversation.
Maura couldn't tell he was really curious as she knew Jane fought him tooth and nail when he evaluated her after the initial Hoyt incident, or if he was just trying to put her at ease before touching on some of the bigger issues she knew he would get to eventually. "It happened over time. Not sure when it happened exactly. After awhile we started just acknowledging that the other person knew what they were talking about in cases rather then just 'butting heads' as you so eloquently put it." That term really did work well with Jane...and herself, she was loathe to admit. "Then, after a really tough case, I finally took her up on the invitation to go to Murray's after work for a drink. I think by then she just asked as she thought she should as the gang was all going to unwind. She seemed a bit shocked that I accepted, and I know Detective Frost wasn't too happy when he saw me join the group. He hates dealing with death at crime scenes, and so I think he wished he could have left those thoughts, and therefore me and what I do back at the office. It wasn't terrible, so I went the next time Jane invited me. I didn't realize that the guys weren't going too. We started talking about anything and everything: work, how odd at times it is to be in a career field that is still dominated by men, how the job is not the best when it comes to being in a relationship as most don't understand what we do." She trailed off then realizing sadly that for the last few months she had pulled away from Jane when it came to talking. Relationships and guys were talked about in generic terms so she didn't rock the boat as she feared what her first real friend might have thought about her brother and her best-friend as a couple...and, even worse, what might happen if the relationship didn't work out. She couldn't bear to lose them both, and in the back of her mind, Maura knew part of the reason for not informing the family about her relationship was she still couldn't bear the thought of losing them both. Oddly, Dr. Zucker's next question brought Maura back to the present, but also reminded her of how close she really was to that possibility two weeks ago.
"So how did you feel walking out the door and seeing your friend getting shot?"
"Terrified." Maura gazed at the wall behind the psychologist's head, but rather than seeing the white wall from her office, she was watching again as friend and fiend started falling to the ground.
Still not knowing that Frankie was anything but her friend's brother the doctor asked, "How about when trying to save Frankie life as your friend begged you to save her brother?"
Maura dropped her eyes to her desk, and her voice to a lower decibel, "Terrified."
"Did you worry that the outcome might effect your first real friendship?"
Maura wondered if he might be better at reading emotions and truths better than she gave him credit for. "There was no time at that moment to worry about anything but trying to save a life. But even then, Jane isn't like that." Her words were stated mainly with conviction about her friend's character, but there was also a slight bit that was saying the words to reassure herself. Maura knew that Jane wouldn't blame her for his death, but she would for keeping the relationship a secret after the bit she heard at the funeral. That fear, more than her excuses of being busy and Jane healing, was why she hadn't talked to her friend outside of a few text messages lately to check-in.
"Jane would do anything for family, and I think part of her issue when her brother was injured was that she couldn't do anything about it." Maura cringed as she watched Dr. Zucker write that information down, and she hoped that, when he interviewed Jane, he didn't mention where he got that gem from. Well, she already started that thought and he had his ammo, so she might as well finish, "I was at the hospital when Frankie coded, even then Jane wanted to do something, even if it was just going to him and beating sense in him to wake up if needed. I watched the family rally together. Helping each other who were hurting and wishing they could also do something for Frankie...they are all alike in that." She remembered the family huddled together. The group hug that had started out to keep Jane from hurting herself, became so much more as they helped comfort each other and themselves.
"What did you do?"
"I watched from the door and then left. I didn't want to intrude...didn't want to fall apart in front of them." Maura didn't realize she said the last part out loud until the next question.
"Why? What would be so bad about falling apart in front of others?" He went on before she even had a chance to try and come up with a reason, "You knew J wouldn't blame you. Did you think that maybe his parents might? They didn't see what all you did in trying to save their son's life, and telling them isn't exactly the same."
"They aren't like that either. It's where Jane gets her compassion from." Maura took a deep breath before correcting his assumption. "And I didn't tell them," about anything involving their son: trying to save him or trying to love him.
"So you never told them?"
Why did they have to repeat your statements as questions? "No, I didn't. Someone might have, but I did not."
"Why not?"
"What would you have me do?...Sorry I know your children are critically injured, maybe dying, but pat me on the back and thank me because I did my job." And that had nothing to do with the other issue of, 'And by the way, here is the engagement ring that he turned into a promise ring because I was too much of a coward to do anything at that moment other than look like a fish out of water and tell him he deserved someone better rather than the yes he was hoping for.'
"You don't like recognition, do you?" Dr. Zucker was busy looking around the room and so missed the sadness that would have clued him in that something was not as straight forward as he was being told. Instead of seeing the 'patient', he looked at the staged room. The only acknowledgments in the room were the numerous degrees so families coming in knew she was qualified, but there were no awards or even letters of thanks like she was bound to have accumulated over the years. He noticed that there was no other real personalization...no photos of family or friends, the pictures of flowers on the wall all looked like general mass-produced prints. "So keeping your friend from bleeding out in front of the building and performing the life saving techniques on her brother was just your job? No emotional attachment?"
She liked recognition, worked her ass off for it, but she was used to it professionally as people sought her out for her opinion and expertise, or by publishing journal articles and occasionally giving lectures. She wasn't used to it from those she really wanted it from on a personal level, and so receiving recognition in that setting felt...odd. And no emotional attachment, HA! If only he knew. "I'm a doctor, that IS my job: whether to not harm the dignity of those dead more than necessary to be able to speak for them, to comfort and try to help those grieving, or trying to save lives until backup can come...time to fall apart later." She took some calming breaths as she tried to swallow down the anger she was feeling both at the situation two weeks ago and at the annoying man in front of her.
"And did you fall apart later?" He needed to know if she was dealing with the emotions or just burying them all.
Maura remembered crying on Korsak after the IA interview, "Yes." Just thinking about that time made her too weary to elaborate even if she wanted to ...which she didn't.
"You mentioned before the family rallying together. Who do you go to when you grieve? Because even if you didn't know Frankie all that well, it would still be natural to grieve for your friend's loss."
If he knew about her and Frankie, or even suspected, he would never buy any of what she was saying or how calm she was able to project most of the time. Usually she would have gone to Jane, and then later to Frankie when they started seeing each other. She couldn't do either then as Jane was busy grieving, and Frankie was dead so could offer no comfort. "Usually I would talk to Jane, but as she was already grieving, I didn't want to burden her. I came back here to inform her partners," well eventually, "and Korsak and I talked a bit." Okay, so there were a lot of blatant holes, but no outright lies by leaving out Frankie from the list, or that at that time, while she did talk to Korsak, it wasn't as emotionally charged as Dr. Zucker might assume.
"Why didn't you join the family with the grieving process? It would have made sense as you were there there and you've been waiting with them for so long?"
'Would have been anything but natural,' she thought. "I didn't want to intrude on a family moment." And she was trying to stay strong, for them, for herself...and that would have shattered that illusion.
"Why is it not natural?"
Crap, Maura didn't think she had said that aloud.
"Usually it's natural to cry and grieve then rather than holding emotions in."
"Not really."
"So you don't feel emotions as strongly as others?" Dr. Zucker wondered if training or issues with how her brain worked.
"My hypothalamus and amygdala work just fine, Dr. Zucker. It's more upbringing. It was heart-warming to see Frankie's friends and family express their feelings." She showed more then her mother would have ever thought seemly in public.
Training it is. From the way she said it, Dr. Zucker knew there was more there, "And that's not the norm in your family?"
"No. I remember the first funeral I ever went to. Mother was not happy when she caught me crying my eyes out and my nose running."
7-year old Maura looked at herself in the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She was not happy with the outfit her nanny had put on her today. The black tights, shiny patent leather shoes, and a boring black dress; her hair even looked severe as it was in a tight french braid. She knew her parents liked her in nice 'proper' clothes, but at least there was usually a bit of color. The only saving grace for the outfit was that, if she spun real fast in a circle, the skirt would flair out. At least they were going to see grandpa today; he would like to see her twirl even if her parents would complain.
"Don't let you parents see you doing that," her long time friend and nanny chided even though there was a hint of amusement that Maura never heard from her parents when they would tell her not to do something.
"I won't. I'm just going to show grandpa."
Sharron wasn't sure why she was shocked to know she needed to clarify the situation. Mr. and Mrs. Isles were not the best when it came to dealing with children. At times she was surprised that the posh family adopted a child. "What did your parents tell you about today?"
"That we were going to see grandpa, and that he is asleep and won't wake up...but I know a trick that gets him every time."
Sharron closed her eyes and wondered what she could add to try and make Maura understand about death, but she would learn soon enough. She knew she would be the one to deal with the fall out when Maura would cry behind closed doors, but she couldn't bring herself to destroy the little bit of happiness that she had at this moment.
When Maura entered her grandparents large estate, she noticed that there were a lot of people in black. It must be one of those boring parties that her parents seemed to really enjoy. She heard even more people talking in a few of the larger side rooms, but she wasn't really curious about them because she was just looking for her grandpa. When she looked to the left parlor, she saw that the room wasn't how it usually was. While her parents walked forward to join the crowd, Maura's curiosity got the better of her, so she entered the almost empty parlor. She smiled as she saw the sole occupant was also the person she was looking for. She wondered why he was asleep in a polished wooden box with gold handles on the outside and silky white bedding; it didn't look comfortable to really sleep on let alone in, but she did love her grandpa for his quirky ways from most of the family.
She dragged one of the many chairs facing her sleeping grandpa over so that she could reach him better. She noticed that he wasn't snoring, so he couldn't be deeply asleep. Maybe he was just playing and waiting 'til she got close so he could tickle her. He was good at tickling and didn't mind if her laughs got really loud or shrill like her parents did. She stood on the chair and pulled out the proven method of waking him up. She pinched his nose shut. Any moment now he would give a deep snort and then start tickling her in retaliation until she couldn't breathe. Her brow pinched together when the usual outcome didn't occur. She went to shake his shoulder and saw that he wasn't moving at all. Something was wrong with that. She tried to stand really still to see if she could do it, but unless she held her breath, she couldn't stop her chest from moving. She tried to hold her breath but couldn't do it for long, so she covered her mouth as she held her breath. All too soon she was forced to take in a deep lungful of air and she felt the warm breath hit her hands. She put her hand at her grandpa's mouth but there was no warmth there, or even when she touched his pale wrinkled skin. Mother said that he was asleep and wouldn't wake up, but Maura knew you still breathed when you were asleep. Tears started pouring down her face at the conclusion of her childish experiments. He wasn't there to try and wake up. He wouldn't be there to encourage her to still have fun and spin and be a messy kid at times. She leaned over and clung to his neck as she continued to soak her grandpa's good blue button up shirt with her tears.
She wasn't sure how long she was there. Pretty long based the large wet stain on his shoulder. Her grip wasn't strong enough to resist as her mother pulled her away and placed her on the floor. She was going to explain that grandpa wasn't asleep, but noticed a brief flicker of sadness on her mother's face as she looked at her father as so thought she probably knew. Then all to soon, Maura saw the disappointed gaze her mother take in her appearance. Maura was quickly led to the nearest restroom. Whenever someone would stop to offer her mother condolences, she noticed that her view of them was blocked...and so was their view of her as if her mother didn't want them to see the tear stains and runny nose of a grieving granddaughter. The minute they entered the restroom, Maura's mother grabbed one of the decorative washcloths from the marble counter that were usually folded into fans. Even with the softness of the cloth, the speed her mother took to clean her face still made her skin hurt. Sharron knew how to do this a lot better.
"No more crying, Maura. It's a natural part of life. Be a strong girl today for your mother."
Maura liked learning about how stuff worked, but she didn't like this part no matter how natural it was. And she didn't want to be a strong girl if that meant she wasn't supposed to cry on the worst day of her life. Throughout the day, Maura did her usual people watching. No one cried. At least Sharron would hold her later as she cried and complained about her day. And for once in her life, Maura wished she was home instead of at her grandparents' house.
"So you learned that public displays of affection and grief weren't allowed, only hidden behind closed doors." It wasn't a question.
"At least not in my family." Her mother would not have been happy to see how her daughter behaved at Frankie's funeral. Even at her father's funeral, neither of them cried. "It was good to be able to cry at times Sunday without worrying what others there would think as they were all crying too." She now had a new worst day of her life, but she was glad to be able to grieve in a more natural way. And even though she did struggle at times to minimize how she showed her emotions, at least it was for the good cause of helping out her dear friend rather than just because her parents thought showing emotions was unseemly.
"So have you really started dealing with all that has happened recently?"
"For the most part," at least logically. But it was like looking at the world through colored glass...not rose colored glasses as there was nothing nice about the situation that she could even TRY to see, but more like sunglasses as it didn't hurt to look out at the world, but all the color was muted.
Dr. Zucker glanced across the desk and looked at the women in front of him. He knew he would sign the form so that she could go back into the field. She seemed to be dealing with the emotions as well as she knew how. It wouldn't be fair to penalize her for what she was taught, and with 39 years of teaching and practice, it would probably take until she retired to even try and make a dent in changing it. It wouldn't effect how she did her job as she had worked like that for years, so it was in everyone's best interest for Dr. Isles to be allowed to do what she did best. He stood up as Maura did, shook her hand, and started toward the door. As he opened the door he looked back, "It was nice talking to you."
Maura could not say likewise so she just replied, "Good day, Dr. Zucker." She walked over to the door and locked it. She was so tired, and not just because she hadn't been sleeping well. She walked back over and sat behind her desk again. She tapped her fingers on the desk before opening up the center desk drawer and pushed the organizer back so that she could see the laughing picture of herself and Frankie. After a few tear filled moments, she covered the picture back up and shut her desk drawer as she closed the door on her thoughts and emotions. She pulled the manilla folders back in front of her and started looking over tox reports and old notes to deal with those deaths easier to handle.
AN: 'fun' dealing with the whys of Maura: hiding, love, emotionally a bit stunted-Maura really does think she is dealing with stuff as she feels and shows much more than she was taught to. Learns not as well as she thinks after Jane learns about her and Frankie...min 4 weeks because Jane needs to be back on duty cause I already wrote it and don't want to change it lol.
Oi, never again writing about elderly falling...researching that as the call came in that grandpa fell and now has a hairline fracture of his C-7 vertebrae...irony sucks!