Maura watched, rapt, as the Rizzolis trickled into the waiting room where Jane received them. Frankie arrived first, as he lived in the city. He merely resembled his former self in her eyes: gone was the suit, the tie, shoes and styled hair. Instead, a mussed black wave stood up in some places on his head, and fell woefully flat in others. He wore a rumpled grey track suit and a pair of Nike running shoes, and he wept like a child when he fell into his sister's arms.

"Fuck, Janie," he croaked. "He gonna be ok?"

Jane spoke through tears as well. There were three other people in the massive waiting room, not including Maura, but still, the ENT shielded them from view to the best of her ability. "I don't know, Frankie. I don't know. But he's alive, and after what I saw of him, we have to count that as a blessing," the trauma surgeon replied, squeezing her brother tighter before releasing him.

He gulped in a huge breath, and then sighed it out. His voice remained somewhat wet, but had mostly returned to normal. "Christ? Did you work on him?"

"No, I couldn't. I couldn't see him like that, knowing…" she paused to let the wave of emotion pass. Maura waited for Jane to tell Frankie what she knew, why Tommy was in the hospital in the first place. It didn't happen. "But Maura worked on him. Put his face back together again."

Frankie turned to her when Jane said this, and she saw the gratitude build in his eyes until he grabbed her and hugged her, too. She patted his back, stiffly.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Isles," he breathed, and she felt the words enter her ear and travel down her spine. They settled in the small of her back, just above and behind where she usually felt the brunt of Jane's affections.

"Please, it's Maura," she managed. When he looked at her as though he wanted her to continue, she did, with practiced care. "Your brother is alive. He is reaching stability, though he's not there yet because a piece of his skull ruptured his dura."

"What, what does that mean, Doc? I mean, Maura," he asked, mouth slightly agape and eyes just a little Rizzoli-wild.

"It means that the sac that separates his brain from his skull was torn, and he could develop meningitis. We're giving him round the clock antibiotics to make sure that doesn't occur, but until some of that swelling goes down and he shows signs of improvement, we're going to have to depend on him putting up a fight."

"If it's anything our brother can do, it's fight," Frankie said, and Jane chuckled sorely. He laughed too, and Maura smiled at the both of them.

"You all seem very resilient. I'm sure he's no different," she responded, but the two snapped their heads at the whoosh of the automatic entryway doors.

The two middle aged people who stepped through had to have been Jane and Frankie's parents, even if they hadn't walked straight towards the three of them – the blood resemblance could not be denied. The man, Frank Sr., with his gelled black hair and tucked-in shirt, oozed the coolness of another time. He provided the shoulder for their mother's heaving sobs. Her brown hair was pulled back by a clip, and her patriots sweatshirt and jeans served to humanize not only herself in this moment, but her husband as well.

She decided that their combination was so much more attractive in the one person that was Jane. Their daughter hugged them with enough tears to appease her mother, and yet a composure that would not alienate her father. Frankie came up behind them and hugged the mass of bodies, and they stood that way for what seemed like twenty minutes.

"What happened to my baby, Janie?" Angela Rizzoli asked, her gaze pleading and defiant at the same time.

"He got beat up, Ma, pretty bad," Jane answered, bowing her head. Maura wanted so badly to tell them more, but decided to trust Jane.

"What? Why? Who could do this to him?" the matriarch gasped. Her two older children shared a look, but she did not catch it.

"We don't know, Ma," Frankie interjected, before Jane could speak.

"God, what is this city coming to?" Angela wailed, in Italian-American grandiosity. "Did you operate on your brother? How is he, what's happening?"

"No, I didn't. But this is Dr. Isles. My friend, Maura. She saw him through the entire process, and she did perform a few procedures for Tommy," Jane answered, stepping back to allow Maura some space.

Frank Sr., however, spoke up before the ENT had a chance to. "What? What do you mean, you didn't operate on him? We all know you're the best BMC's got and he's your own brother-"

"Frank!" Angela admonished, but Jane answered him.

"Because, Daddy, that was my little brother on that table. There was no way I could open him up. But I trust Maura's expertise more than anyone else in this hospital, and she came through in the clutch." She stared at him with a narrowed brow and a frown, willing him to let it go, even though she knew it was his way of processing. He apparently accepted her words as enough of an answer, for he drew quiet again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rizzoli," Maura began in the composed voice she always delivered news with, but when she felt Jane close at her back, drawing comfort and energy from her, she relaxed her shoulders and decided to let their intimacy drive this particular meeting. "Tommy is alive. He suffered a lot of facial trauma, and I had to insert a few plates in order to stabilize some of his more extensive facial fractures. He also suffered damage to his voice box and windpipe, so I had to stabilize that with a tracheostomy, which is a breathing tube that he will wear for at least a week. Luckily, the damage to his breathing apparatus was relatively minor. He also suffered internal bleeding, but our trauma surgeon on call, Dr. Crowe, repaired the laceration. He is on aggressive antibiotics now, and is approaching stability, so that's a good sign. He's not out of the woods yet. But he's on his way to being so."

Angela cried through the news. "Can we see him?" she finally asked.

Maura looked to Jane, who nodded. She glanced at her watch. "Yes. Would you like me to take you all to him?"

As they all answered with some variation of yes, she led them to the elevator, Jane walking alongside her, saying nothing. Her hand swayed close to Maura's, as though she wanted to grasp it, and Maura's heart raced at the notion. She found it harder to believe as the hours moved on that this was the same woman she had had sex with, had let inside of her, not long before – Jane was tired, broken, and meek.

They ascended to the fourth floor, and she found it important to speak as the lights flickered to note the passing levels. "Now, I want you all to be very aware: Tommy does not look like himself right now. His face is swollen and wrapped in gauze, and there are drainage bags on each side of his head. He sustained multiple large bruises on his body as well."

They all nodded, but when they entered his room, Angela wailed. It was the scene that Maura had described, but so painfully worsened by the presence of her own child. She rushed to him and grabbed his hand, kissing it, muttering things no-one truly understood, and even Frank Sr. strained to keep his emotion in check when he went to the other side of his son's bed. Frankie and Jane watched the scene unfold from the foot, one dazed and with his eyes red, the other mesmerized by the sight of her prostrate brother and all his current trappings.

"I'll let you all have some time with him," Maura said into the air, not knowing if anyone heard. Nonetheless, she took her exit, and turned to walk back to the elevator when someone grasped her arm to stop her.

It was Jane. "Hey, wait," she said, stopping the both of them in the deserted hallway.

"Yes?" Maura asked.

Jane's body flickered to warmth when she saw the fall of Maura's bangs and the wrap of her bun. She sighed. "I don't know if I said this before, but thank you. I just got my first look at the work you did in there, and… just thank you. He's a mess, but I can tell you really pulled a Hail Mary out on this one," she said.

Maura gave her a small smile. "I told you that you could trust me."

"Yeah and I do. But, that… in there…" the taller woman stumbled, struggling not to cry, "it's brilliant, Maura. And I just can't thank you enough because he's my brother."

Maura stepped closer to her, so that they were only inches apart. "You've already thanked me enough," she said, pinching the front of Jane's scrubs between her thumb and forefinger. "And I was doing my job, the best way I knew how."

"Yeah, well, I know I said I was the best surgeon in the room, but that was a lie. Because clearly it's you," Jane said, sniffling and chuckling.

Maura laughed too, unveiling the dazzling white of her smile. "I won't correct you," she said, swaying a little on her feet, marveling at the purity of the brown in Jane's eyes. She kissed her then, slow and languid and deep. Three short pecks and another long kiss later, she spoke again. "Go be with your family, Dr. Rizzoli. I have to finish up the paperwork on Tommy and then I'm going to go home. I will be back to check on him first thing in the morning."

"Okay," Jane relented, licking her wet lips and laying her forehead on Maura's. "Okay."

Maura did return in the morning, as promised. Tommy was still not yet stable, and had maintained a small fever throughout the night, but some of the swelling had gone down, and that was always good news. The four other Rizzolis had kept vigil over him for what she presumed was the entirety of the six hours that she was gone, as everyone wore the same clothes, even Jane.

Angela approached her, and Maura saw just how much she looked like Jane in the light of day. "Dr. Isles, I just can't say how much I appreciate what you did for my son. Janie's been tellin' me how much of a miracle your work is, and," she sighed, holding out her hand for Maura to take. "Just thank you."

Maura shook back. "There's no need for your thanks, Mrs. Rizzoli, but I'll take it. You're welcome."

"Any idea when he'll wake up?" asked Frank Sr. from behind his wife, seated in a chair near the window.

"It will be at least a few days, if not a week," Maura answered. In him she saw even more of Jane, and this amazed her. The posture, the raven hair, the tall frame and long bones – it was as though Jane was Angela's skin wrapped around her father's skeleton, and Frankie was the opposite. Marvelous.

"I wouldn't rush it, Pop," Jane said from the chair on Tommy's side nearest the door. She rose to stand close to Maura, and Angela's eyes flickered across the both of them.

"Course not, sweetheart. Just tryin' to get some information," Frank said. He returned to sipping his coffee and checking his phone for plumbing jobs.

"Well, I'll leave you all to your days then, but know the prognosis for your son improves by the hour, especially if his swelling continues to go down," Maura said, nodding to all of them, before turning to go.

"Wait, Dr. Isles!" called Angela, and Maura turned back. "Janie says you're good friends."

"I'd say that, too, I think. Jane was one of the first people to really welcome me here," she replied, unsure where the conversation was headed. Jane seemed unsure too, so she stood behind her friend in an attempt to intimidate her mother.

Angela only smiled wider. "Since you're such good friends, I was wondering, maybe this is too much to ask. But could you keep an eye on Tommy through this whole ordeal? I don't know when he's going to be released or what his recovery time will be like, but it would make me feel so much better if I knew you were helping him through it."

Maura nodded vigorously, relieved that this was the conversation's mild outcome. Jane wasn't so sure. "Of course. Jane will give you my phone number if anything arises. I will make sure to set up a few appointments in my office after Tommy has been released, both to check the progress of his healing and to set him up with the appropriate Speech-Language Pathologist. I can also be present at the insertion of his nasogastric feeding tube today, if you'd like."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Angela responded, starry-eyed.

Jane took her arm, and walked with her out of the room. "Hey listen," she began. "I'm sorry about my family. They can be a little… smothering."

"I think it's sweet," said Maura, a quizzical look on her features.

"Yeah well. That's because you haven't been around them very long," Jane replied. "Speaking of, actually… we're goin' out to dinner tonight. A little Italian place just a couple blocks from here. I know it's not what you're used to in terms of swank, but would you wanna come? None of us have really eaten anything and it'll be our first meal that wasn't hospital food since yesterday."

Maura wanted to be excited. Part of her was. Part of her was elated that Jane wanted her to spend time with her family. The rest of her felt heavy with the knowledge that only she, Jane, and Tommy held. "I would like to, but… I don't think I'd feel comfortable knowing something that your brother doesn't. And should."

"I get that, but I am going to tell him. Today, remember? Things just got a little hectic," Jane reasoned.

Maura nodded. That she could not deny. Still, she maintained her reserved expression. "I know. But please tell him."

"I will. I gave you my word," Jane promised.

The ENT gave a small smile, but walked away with a sadness that sprouted from her hesitation to believe her friend.

Frank Sr. and Jr. followed not far behind, turning left instead of right, toward the vending machines. Jane patted her brother's shoulder as she re-entered Tommy's room, where her mother stood waiting for her with a smirk on her face.

"You messin' around with that girl, Jane?" she asked, arms crossed and foot tapping.

"Ma!"

"What?!"

"Tommy's in critical condition and you're playin' this game?" Jane said with her arms open, confrontational.

"Yes! You could at least let me see one of my kids healthy and happy!" Angela retorted.

"Can't I be healthy and happy without seein' anyone?" Jane whined.

"Sure, and you usually are whether you're seein' someone or not. But you get a look. And I don't blame you! She's gorgeous, especially out of those scrubs."

"What look?" Jane looked around, as though the answer would be in the room with them, avoiding the Maura is gorgeous comment.

Her mother didn't answer that question. "It doesn't matter, because she's comin' to dinner, isn't she?"

Maura tried not to let self-consciousness get the best of her as she trotted down the sidewalk in her heels. For she, Maura Isles, was late, for the first time in her life: Jane had texted her to be at the restaurant by 8:00, and it was now 8:03.

She wanted so badly to be on time, to impress the family of the person she had certainly come to like, and that had devolved into a serious wardrobe debate. So now, she wore dark jeans and a black ruffled blouse under a light trench coat.

Her earrings dangled and her eyes were smoky, and Jane, who stood just outside Figaro's on her phone, certainly appreciated it. "Hey, you look… you look amazing," she gushed, shoving her phone into her coat pocket. The breeze outside chilled them both, and her kiss on Maura's cheek was cold.

"Thank you," Maura said. Her voice was deep and lax, and indicative of the effect Jane's words had on her. She accepted the kiss and hugged the taller woman. "I'm sorry I'm late, by the way. Is everyone waiting on me?"

"What? No. Clearly you've never been on Italian time," Jane chuckled. "You're early. In fact, we're both early. I was gonna go in and get a table in a few minutes, but now that you're here, we can go now, I guess." As she spoke, a work truck parked on the street, and out scrambled the other three Rizzolis. "Well, would you look at that," she whistled, "one doctor that isn't me at the table and suddenly people have the courtesy to show up on time."

Maura giggled, and threaded her arm in Jane's. They stood outside the restaurant's heavy maroon door, and waited for the rest of the family to meet them. When they did, Jane rolled her eyes at the smug grin on her mother's face.

They entered, sat, and ate, the conversation undulating in the lightness of a family comfortable with one another, but burdened by a hard time. Angela and Frank seemed older, no doubt worn on by the exhaustion of a child knocking on death's door. Frankie and Jane, every few moments, would share a tired look.

Maura was content to watch, to answer cursory questions directed her way, and to revel in the feel of Jane's hand, hidden under the table on her knee.

"I just can't see why anyone would do this to Tommy," Angela said again, shaking her head.

Frankie waited for the waitress to finish setting down their dessert orders before speaking. "I don't know, Ma," he said, shaking his head in genuine wonderment. Maura's heart sank, and her hand shoved Jane's away from her knee. "But I'm gonna do my best to find out."

Jane looked as though electrocuted when Maura spurned her. She nodded toward the restroom, and the shorter woman reluctantly followed. "What the hell was that?"

"You didn't tell your brother?!" Maura nearly shouted.

"You want me to tell him while my mother's out there?! Oh yeah, 'Frankie by the way, this is all Tommy's fault because he ordered a hit gone wrong! How does that make you feel, Ma?!'"

"No! But you had all of today! I told you I don't feel comfortable keeping your secret anymore, and you said you were going to tell him today! And you didn't!"

"You know why? Because my parents have been around us since midnight! I had to fucking text him from across the room, across the room, that I needed to talk to him at his place tonight! That's where I'm going from here!" Jane growled. She stood so close to Maura that the other woman could feel the heat emanating from her.

"That sounds nice, Jane, but I don't know if I believe it," Maura responded quietly, and walked away. Her heels clacked on the tile, and she had nearly crossed their table before Jane caught up.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to go," she said professionally, sweetly, to the Rizzolis still seated at the table.

"Oh, that's too bad," Angela said through a bite of her tiramisu.

"Yeah, Maura. Sure you can't stay?" Frankie asked, patting the seat next to him, the one she had occupied earlier.

"I'm quite sure, but thank your for your company. I enjoyed myself," technically it wasn't a lie; she had enjoyed herself up to the point when she had realized Jane had not confessed what she knew to her brother.

"I'll walk you out," Jane said in the best nonchalant voice that she could muster, doing her best to smile in the shorter woman's direction.

"It's quite alright. Enjoy your meal. I can find my car," the cool in Maura's tone stayed with Jane for the rest of the night, though her family hardly noticed, and she didn't bother to offer Jane a grin in return.