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

Chapter 24

Wednesday after cleaning out Frankie's apartment, Jane had a physical therapy appointment in town so she asked her Ma to drop her off at police headquarters afterward. She told her mom to pick her up in an hour; she mentioned needing to sign some paperwork on Marino's case, but more than anything she had a certain Lieutenant to talk to. On the way to Lieutenant Cavanaugh's office, Jane kept an eye out for any female brunette officer. So far she had only seen one, but she was too muscular for Jane to think that Frankie's landlord would have described her as skinny. She didn't see Frost and Korsak at their desks, but with the time of day, and knowing Vince, the pair was probably at lunch.

Jane knocked on the closed door. Not getting a response, she knocked again. She really hoped he wasn't out to lunch too as she knew she wouldn't get a chance to talk to him in person again until next week when she finally had the all clear to drive and do a bit more light work. She knew that only talking to him over the telephone would not help her argument that she was well enough for partial days. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a muffled, "Enter." So she opened the door and stepped into the office. She didn't realize that as she was entering the small room, Korsak came back to the office and started walking over to her.

Before she could say anything, Cavanaugh told her, "Go home, Rizzoli."

"Come on," with his piercing gaze she added, "sir...I'm not asking to get out on the streets yet, just part time for some desk duty...My physical therapist and Dr. Isles say that it would be therapeutic to sit up for longer periods of time to work on my healing muscles." Okay, so Dr. Isles never backed her, but she would...even if Jane had to twist her arm. She sat down in front of his desk to prove that she could do so without cringing, granted the pain pill she took after her PT torture season didn't hurt either.

"Yeah, let her come back. Her ugly mug and sunny disposition will make the rest of us work harder...at least with anything out of the office so as not to come back," Korsak joked from the open doorway.

Even though it was not her desk, Jane grabbed the nearest writing utensil to throw at Korsak.

"See, she knows how to get us out of the office," he was laughing hysterically as he walked away.

Jane turned back to her Lieutenant, "You know I'm desperate if I'm actually asking to do desk duty and paperwork. I'll be careful...the minute I get tired or I'm in pain I'll go home." Granted it was usually a cold day in hell before she would admit to being tired or in pain.

Cavanaugh sighed, "Get me an okay from your surgeon and physical therapist and I will let you come back on a few conditions. One – you go home the second you feel you need to. You overdo it and I just lose you even longer. Two – you don't work more than four hours for at least the first week. It's more cost-effective having you do some of your work rather than paying someone else overtime to pick up your slack. Three – you start seeing Dr. Zucker your first day back. We've all had our head shrunk, so it's your time in the hot seat." He finished barking out his commands. "You got me, Rizzoli?"

Jane hated the third condition, but she knew that she would need him to sign off on a psych eval to get her back to full active duty anyway. She might as well get the ball rolling on that. "You got yourself a deal." She stood up, shook his hand, and started to walk out the door.

"Rizzoli..."

She turned around hoping that he hadn't changed his mind in that short amount of time.

"I'm glad you're starting to feel well enough to come back. It's been too quiet around here without you...and your brother."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." She needed to end on a lighter note though. "See you Monday, probably not bright and early since I can only work half days. My boss is such a stick-in-the-mud." She hurried out the door and shut it behind her.

"RIZZOLI!"

She chuckled as she walked to the elevators. She really missed this place.

Jane took the elevator down to the floor with the morgue. She was in a good mood after her conversation with Cavanaugh and because she was stopping in briefly to say 'hi' to a friend. She watched Dr. Isles through the clear viewing window, which allowed the police or other interested parties to watch an autopsy without the harsh smells that accompanied those decomposing bodies, or when there was a possible biological hazard when the corpse was cut into. She watched as Dr. Isles closed up the y-incision on the older man she was working on and was glad that Maura would soon be finished so they could talk without the interruption of stating organ weights and autopsy findings. She finally walked into the autopsy suite to let Maura know that she was there to talk; she wasn't expecting to personally not realize that she was there on that early October morning.

Jane walked into the well-lit room where Dr. Isles was standing over a body on the autopsy table, but she saw a room bathed only in the emergency back-up lights. Her injured brother was lying on the table, and her stressed friend was trying to do all she could to save him. Her breath started coming faster. It hurt her healing body, but trapped in her memories, the pain in her chest just seemed like a physical representation of the dread she felt watching her brother dying in front of her.

She rushed forward to try and comfort her brother as he struggled to breathe and ran into a tray of equipment that Yoshima had readied for the next autopsy. She wasn't sure what tripped her up as there didn't appear to be anything blocking her way to the dead-person table. She used her left hand to help push herself up and felt a brief pain as something cut her near the base of her thumb.

Maura glanced over at the sound of metal instruments clattering on the ground and was shocked to see her usually calm and composed friend floundering about on the floor. She rushed over to try and help Jane up, but before she could get there, she watched as Jane put her hand down and was nicked with a sharp scalpel. She tore off the soiled paper garments and dropped them on the floor between the table and Jane as she didn't want to take the time to walk the extra ten feet or so over to the red biohazard bin. She reached Jane right after Yoshima, and they each grabbed an arm to help the frantic woman up.

Jane was helped up by Maura on her left side and Bobby Marino on her right. When she was standing again, she watched as Marino walked away. She thought he was hurrying back to guard the main doors but noticed that he came back over and handed some bandages to Maura.

Maura grabbed the gauze as Yoshima passed it over to her. She stared guiding Jane to the doors so she could get Jane out of there and over to the privacy of her office. She glanced back toward the mess on the floor and the body on the table before looking hopefully at her assistant, "Will you finish up here?"

He nodded his answer, still shocked at seeing the strong detective crumpled on the floor moments earlier.

Jane wasn't understanding what she was seeing: Marino was walking toward the autopsy table rather then guarding the door, Maura was trying to steer her out to the unsecured hallway rather than helping her brother, and the person on the table was too pale and not breathing. She tried to turn around and walk toward the table again, but Maura was surprisingly strong when she needed to be. Since she couldn't break away, she turned in to try and face her friend, "Maura, please help him." She pointed back toward her brother; struggling again to breathe as she noticed he was not.

Maura heard Jane plead with her to save Frankie, and she wished with all her heart she could. That the day really was repeating itself so she could try and change what happened. She saw the tears streaming down from deep chocolate eyes and knew she wasn't fairing much better. She clasped the gauze tightly against the cut in Jane's hand and hoped that holding on for dear life would help pull her friend back to the present rather than the hell of weeks earlier. She opened her office door and pushed it open with her hip in order to pull Jane into the room. She led them the few steps over to the couch and gently lowered the both of them so they were sitting next to each other.

Without the visual reminder of the location where she watched her brother struggling to live, Jane was slowly noticing all the changes, including the pain throughout her chest from the gunshot wound rather than from fearing for her brother, and the new throbbing pain from the cut on her hand that Maura was checking out.

Maura lifted the gauze up long enough to clear away the blood and look at how deep the cut was. She was glad to see that it was just a minor nick so it wouldn't need more than a band-aid or two. She heard a slight knock on the door and rested a hand on Jane's knee to give comfort. After a brief glance from Jane that showed she was faring a little better, Maura stood up and walked over to her closed office door. She cracked open the door, not wanting anyone else to get a glance of a rattled Jane, as she knew her friend would not like that, and was glad to see her assistant bearing gifts.

When he saw Maura blocking the small opening of the door, Yoshima started passing over the items he brought over: bottle of water, hydrogen peroxide, and several band-aids. He whispered, "How is she doing?"

Maura whispered back just as quietly as she took the items, knowing that Jane would not like to know that others were talking about her, "Better...Thank you." They shared a worried smile and went back to their respective tasks.

Jane took a few deep gulps of air, still feeling her heart thumping faster than normal. She was about to wipe her sweaty palms on her thighs but was stopped by Maura.

Dr. Isles grabbed Jane's left hand before she could smear blood on her pants. She turned the hand over and started to dab at the cut with some clean gauze that she had doused with hydrogen peroxide.

Jane was still a bit detached as she watched the cut bubble as it was cleaned. "I don't do well around scalpels, do I?" She moved her gaze toward the center of her palm and stared at the pale scar tissue that was a permanent reminder of Charles Hoyt pinning her hands to a musty basement floor with two sharp and shiny scalpels. "It's a good thing I don't have your job, huh?"

Maura placed two large band-aids over the cut and then placed the water bottle in the non-injured hand. She balled up the used gauze and wrappers and took them over to the small trashcan by her desk. As she was walking back over to the couch, Maura saw a tight frown on Jane's face. "Are you in pain?" She was wondering if Jane might have hurt more than just her hand when she fell.

"Yes." Nothing else, just a curt yes.

Maura knew Jane must really be hurting if she was actually admitting it, "Where are your pills?"

"Pills won't help this pain."

Maura knew all too well what Jane meant. She stayed quiet, hoping Jane would talk if she felt inclined to.

"I don't get it. I walked in the front door fine...even noted where I was shot," not that it was difficult to do as the sidewalk was still a little discolored from both her's and Bobby's blood. She started to comb her fingers through her unruly curls but then tightened her grip near her scalp in gesture driven by the warring confused and angry thoughts.

"You were more emotional that day for Frankie's well-being than your own, so it makes sense that the place where you saw him hurt would trigger a more poignant response."

"I don't know how you work in there all the time anymore."

Sometimes lately Maura had no clue how she did it either. "There have been a couple instances when I had a flashback. And when someone is causing a lot of noise near the evidence lockers I still jump. I mentioned them to Dr. Zucker when we spoke."

"One of my stipulations for coming back Monday is to start seeing him...joy." The last part was said with as much sarcasm as she could shove into that small word.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"Oh, don't you start too." She worried for a second that Dr. Isles might not give her support if Cavanaugh would ask for her opinion. "By the way, do you agree that sitting more would help strengthened my stomach muscles?"

"Yes, all four muscles, Rectus Abdominis, External and Internal Abdominal Obliques, and Transverse Abdominis, compress the abdomen. Performing repetitive sit-ups would not be good with all your other injuries, so holding a seated position would be the next best thing for working those muscles out."

"Good, so if Lieutenant Cavanaugh asks, you can say yes."

"Jane!" Maura didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed with how Jane made sure to ask her opinion without reference so she would agree; then, if her boss did ask, it wouldn't be a lie. She was sneaky.

"It's only for partial days anyway, Maura. Never thought I'd say it, but I think desk duty won't be so bad." At Maura's confused look, Jane added, "if I'm not actively working homicides, then there is no reason I would have to come to the morgue." She gave a humorless chuckle. "Maybe I'll have to do some of that immersion therapy crap with Frost – him so he'll stop contaminating crime scenes, and me to be able to not flip out down here."

"It gets easier." They sat in silence for awhile, each hoping that it would get easier sooner rather than later. Finally Maura asked, "What are your plans for coming back? You know you can stay at my place so you're not totally alone."

"No, thanks. I want to get back to my normal routine as quickly and as closely as possible."

"I understand. But promise me you will call if you need anything."

Ironically, at the word 'call' Jane's cell phone rang. The ring tone letting her know that her mother was calling. She pulled the phone out from her pocket but didn't bother to answer as she noticed the time. "I was supposed to be outside ten minutes ago. I'm surprised Ma actually waited that long to check up on where I am." She stood up and walked to the office door and was quickly followed by Maura.

As they walked the hallway past the autopsy suite, Maura made sure to stay between Jane and the viewing windows. Not that it mattered much as Jane kept her eyes focused on the elevator in front of her. In the elevator ride to the lobby, Maura asked, "How about you stay at my place Saturday night? That way you can pick up Jo and start getting back to normal like you want. Plus the walks with her will do you both some good. Longer walks would work on building up your stamina and help Jo because I think she is tired of mainly just running around in my backyard, and she has been lonely with only a slow tortoise to try and play with."

"So how have the two behaved together?"

Maura just laughed. "The first night, Jo thought the best place to sleep would be curled up on Bass's shell...at least until her bed started moving. But they've oddly become two unexpected friends." Like their owners' friendship.

"I would have liked to have seen that."

"Don't worry. I took pictures." With the humorous conversation, Maura didn't realize that they had exited the elevator, crossed the lobby, and were about to exit through the doors she had, until that moment, bypassed. She held on to Jane's elbow more forcefully than before and hoped that those looking, including Jane, just assumed that she was making sure her friend got down the stairs in one piece...but it was more hoping she made it down the stairs in one piece. Luckily, with Jane by her side, she was constantly reminded that her friend was not a few feet away and bleeding on the sidewalk; therefore, she didn't need Jane to reciprocate and pick her up off the ground.

Jane wondered why Maura held onto her arm tighter. She assumed that it was because she was walking down stairs, but Maura had seen her walk safely down more stairs at her parents' house. She was about to complain when Maura held the passenger side door open for her because she wasn't an invalid, for the most part, anymore. The proverbial light bulb came on though when she noticed how Maura was standing with her back to where she was shot. Jane had missed seeing the world in terms of puzzles to be solved as she needed to on crime scenes, but she felt sad watching her friend struggle. She gave a wry smile and nodded to point out the spot behind Maura, "We make a sorry pair, don't we?"

"That we do. So Saturday?"

"What's Saturday?" Angela asked as she walked around the car. She gave Maura a quick hug, ignoring the slight tension in Maura's shoulders as she did so. "Thanks again for helping out last weekend." She watched Maura nod her acknowledgment.

"I asked about coming back next week for partial days..."

"Jane!" Angela's exclamation had no less than three police officers turn their heads to see what was going on.

Jane wished she could have sunk farther into the front seat. "I need to get back to my normal routine...and so do you and Pop," she added when it looked like her mother was about to interrupt. "So I was going to stay at Maura's Saturday so I can pick up Jo and then go home the next day." She turned her gaze from her Ma to Maura. "It feels like I'm back in grade school and having to ask for permission to go sleep over at a friend's house."

"I missed out on all of that sleep over stuff until now."

Angela understood what her daughter meant about getting back to normal...or as normal as they could without Frankie. She was also saddened by hearing Maura mention the normal childhood delights that she had missed out on. "Fine, you both have my permission." She smiled at Maura and Jane. Two very different girls with two very different upbringings and responses.

"Thanks, Angela." Maura was glad to at least get to know her as a parent through interactions with Jane as she missed out on them with Frankie.

"I wasn't asking for permission." As her Ma's smiling gaze turned into a staged scowl as it turned toward her, Jane threw out, "But thanks all the same." She rolled her eyes as she pulled the door shut. Letting the other women know that she, at least, thought the conversation was over.

Maura started walking with Angela toward the back of the car. Before Angela could round the car, Maura stopped her and kept her voice down as she said, "Jane might have nightmares tonight...she didn't deal well seeing where Frankie lay injured for so long." She felt horrible for the pained look that etched into Angela's face, but she would feel even worse if she said nothing and no one knew to keep an eye on her friend.

Rather than hugging her again, Angela gave a thankful squeeze to Maura's shoulder before she finished the walk around the car, got in, and left Maura standing alone on the sidewalk.

Maura watched the car round the next corner and then couldn't stop her gaze from looking down toward the reddish-brown stain on the sidewalk. She didn't need tests to tell her that it was blood...she saw it drain from both Jane and Marino that day a little over a month ago. She hoped neither she nor Jane would have nightmares that night, but she knew how they liked to follow the hard days.

Hoping to relax after the stress filled day, Maura Isles placed in a CD of instrumental music of a pan flute that she purchased at a heritage festival she was dragged into going with a fellow anthropology studies student in her college days. While Sandra grilled anyone she could find for a research paper on the customs of early Native Americans, Maura wandered the booths full of artwork, herbal remedies, and was mesmerized by the sounds from a man playing a wooden flute. The CD never failed to relax her, but she didn't think to reread the soundtrack before she popped it into her player and pressed play. The instrumental version of The Rose whispered through her sound system. She didn't need to hear someone singing the words. Her mind filled them in: "It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance...It's the soul afraid of dyin' that never learns to live." Was that the truth? Was she the one who worked and lived more in a world of death as living scared her?...She knew it was, and her anger and sadness at her stupidity in life situations tore at her. Similarly she tore at the stereo. She pulled at it so hard that the cord ripped from the wall socket, and finally she threw it across the room, not seeing or caring where it went. She tried to make it over to wearily collapse on her couch, but she didn't quite make it. She crumbled to the ground beside the couch, kneeling there with her head buried in the cushions as tears and memories bombarded her.

~2 months into relationship~

Frankie knelt down in front of her as she sat on her couch. Please don't do this, her mind begged, but she was shocked into silence by this unexpected move after only two months of seeing each other as more then just colleagues and acquaintances through Jane.

"Will you marry me?" Frankie asked, smiling up at her with that boyish grin that had so captured her heart and holding a beautiful ring. The silence was deafening as he waited for an answer, and she waited for her neurons to start firing so she could come up with something...anything, to say.

She really wished she would have done better then a sorrowful, "I can't," when she finally could speak. He already knew about her disastrous previous marriage and her reluctance to ever use the word love in a conversation. She had thrown out all of the horrible bits about herself and her past within the first two weeks of their seeing each other. Everyone left eventually: either from their own free will or through death. So why not sooner rather then later she always thought as she self-sabotaged any interaction that might have developed into a real relationship? But somehow the Rizzoli's did not measure up to her hypothesis about people. Neither Jane as a friend, nor Frankie as a lover, were scared away by the myriad of facts she hid behind or her self-recriminations. "It's too soon. How can you know it's the real thing?"

"I just do. I'm sure you could tell me all about it better then I could...chemical processes, genetic need to find a mate and have kids and all that," Frankie chuckled before he sobered a bit. "We both work with the worst of mankind, we see death everyday... you learn from that not to let a good thing slip by... not to wait too long. This is a good thing, Maura."

He was still gazing up at her...lovingly yes, but his smile had turned a bit sad as he stated. "You never have been good with the living, huh." It wasn't a question, he knew her too well for that. He could feel her tense up as he was still holding onto her hands from his kneeling position. Before she could further pull away from him, as she already was mentally, he got up and sat close to her on the couch with his arm around her shoulder. To comfort, but to also keep her grounded. "How about this? Keep it...as a promise. I already know I love you Maura. You can keep it as a promise for whenever you're ready for more. I'm not going anywhere." He took a deep breath of the scent that was only her, strong ivory soap, and an odd mustiness that in that back of his mind he registered as being from her long hours in the morgue, but as it was a part of her, it didn't seem to gross him out like it might have otherwise.

She stood up and walked into her bedroom. Great, Frankie though, Man, did I screw that up. He was cautious about what she might say or do when he saw her walking back into the room moments later: kick him out, kill him in a way an autopsy would never be able to figure out a cause of death, pretend the last few minutes never happened. A major smile broke out on his face though when he noticed her holding a thin golden chain in her hands. Quietly he took the chain from her when she was in reach, slipped the ring on it as he earlier hoped to slip it on a slender finger, and Maura turned around so he could clasp the necklace firmly in place. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, but finally he got it secured. With her back to him still, he leaned in to kiss where the clasp lay on her smooth skin. He gave her shoulders a brief squeeze before turning her around and giving her a proper kiss on the mouth. "Let me show you how serious I am, Maura." He started to pull her into the room she had just vacated. "I love you."

He wasn't expecting a reply to that, or even a 'ditto', but he did get a quiet, "You deserve so much better, Frankie."

He sat her on the edge of the bed and said with each word punctuated by a light kiss, "Never...I ...Want...You!" And he showed her just how much he wanted her...how much he loved her.

Maura raised her head as she whispered to the empty room, "but you did deserve so much better...from me, Frankie." She removed the now empty chain that she had worn for the last few days. She hurled it across the room to join the broken stereo and dented wall. She stood up on shaky legs and walked toward her bedroom. To spend another depressing night alone, hopefully not plagued with nightmares.

AN: From here on the story goes much darker. We know Jane and Maura as homicide detective and medical examiner respectfully, and so they see some of the worse mankind has to offer. There will be blood, guts, rape, autopsies, and interviews with some really twisted perps. So if you want to keep with the lighter side only, wait to read the last chapter when posted in a really long time. There will still be the fun banter between all mixed in at times, and the many interesting responses from others learning about Maura and Frankie, but just wanted to warn about being case heavy from now on.

Plus if you've read the books, or not...when I deal with Hoyt his MO is more book related than the show. So he's a bit scarier...and I definitely touch on the actions that got him named 'The Surgeon'. Let me know if you need any explanation of my odd combination of show, books, and random thoughts.

Just a heads up, and hope you still read and enjoy...if enjoy can be the right word when dealing with homicides.