DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles nor any of the characters from the show. I am writing this purely for entertainment, not profit. Rizzoli and Isles are property of Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

Please find the full disclaimers in the beginning of Chapter 1.

Chapter 12

Jane was impressed on how easily they fell on a routine. For the following six days, Maura finished the regimen of antibiotics. Jane helped Maura practicing her PT twice a day as if it was a religion. And they did everything in their power to eat healthily and keep clean in the middle of nowhere.

From the seventh day on, Jane was on the ready. They didn't show up that day, but on the eight day since their last visit, she heard the noise of the car, jumped out of the window with her backpack, and picked the piece of wood that would be her weapon in case it was not WitSec.

Jane waited with sharpened ears, and sighed in relief when a chair dropped. That was Maura's cue this week if it was WitSec. She would have made it look like she had tripped it with her crutches. Jane realized this was mostly a precarious system, anyone with a gun would have ended Maura by then. But there was little else she could do.

Again they stayed about an hour, before leaving in the car. Jane was concerned when she didn't see Maura by the bedroom window half an hour after that, and it was with a thumping heart she jogged back to the house. Did they suspect something and had moved Maura? Was Maura in any danger and they had to remove her urgently?

"Maura?"

She found her friend sitting in the sofa, seemingly stunned.

"Maura?" she tried again, dropping her backpack on the corner, and kneeling in front of Maura. "Are you okay?"

Maura's eyes were welled with tears, and she shook her head no.

Jane, still kneeling, hugged Maura to herself, unsure of what could have caused this visceral reaction. She allowed Maura to cry, sobbing against her, while she rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Maura's back.

When she felt Maura's sobbing calming down, she moved up to sit by Maura's side in the sofa, pulling Maura to be almost sitting on her lap. She would offer comfort if that would help Maura to open up.

"What happened, Maura?"

"They burned MEND…" she sobbed.

"What?" Jane snapped.

"The Boston clinic. They set fire to it." Maura shook her head, disgusted.

"I am sorry, Maura..."

"Apparently, apprehending the two suspects from the two other mob families put these two mob families in action, and they burned MEND and started several attacks to Paddy's faction. WitSec told me this as if it was good news, because they were able to arrest a ton of people, and a lot of people had been identified through video. They showed me tens of photos, but I can't remember the face of the men who entered my car and shot me. I don't know if I even paid attention to his face to be able to remember, you know? Or it might be momentary trauma memory loss…"

Maura was rambling, and Jane knew it.

"Shhhhh, calm down, Maura. Did they tell if anyone was hurt on the fire?"

"Thankfully nobody. Apparently, the fire burned at night, when only a few emergency cases were being observed, and the doctors volunteering had time to evacuate everyone. But the clinic, the paperwork, the medicines, the equipment… Everything was lost…" Again Maura's eyes were full of tears. The work of Hope's life had been burnt to embers.

"I am so sorry, Maura… It meant a lot to Hope. And I know it meant a lot to you, since it was the place that represented the bridge to reconnect you and Hope."

"No, Jane, you were the bridge to reconnect Hope and I. But it was a testament of her work, it was a place I came to love working for, and it breaks my heart to think it is now only ashes…"

Jane squeezed Maura tightly against her. So much pain… When was this going to stop? How much more could Maura handle without breaking?

"They also told me that they were able to identify Hope's killer, and that he was among the pictures they showed me to see if I could identify him as my attempted killer too. They didn't tell which one he was to avoid influencing me, but they assured me there was sufficient evidence to convict him of Hope's murder even if I could not identify him as well."

"I am glad that at least some justice will be made for her, Maura. I know you told me no measure of justice will bring her back, but…"

"But since she is dead, this is the closest to justice we will ever get."

Both sighed. Maura, thinking of all that had been lost. And Jane, considering if that could be the beginning of the end of this nightmare. When perps played something big and visible and public, they were easier to catch. That was her hope. But she didn't want to raise false expectations for Maura, so she kept it to herself.

After feeling Maura was calmer, Jane moved to take stock and was satisfied with all they had brought them. They would be comfortably safe for another ten days, easily.

But what Maura had been most excited about where her new PT implements.

She explained them to Jane and together they began new sequences of exercises that would make the best use of what was available.

What Jane noticed in the next few days was a slow but good progress on Maura's walking. She could now slowly drag each foot separately. It was still painfully slow, but she became finally able to do it. But Jane noticed Maura was growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress with her hands.

Bang. Maura's small fist hit the table, frustrated.

Jane immediately picked Maura's smaller hands in hers, stroking where Maura had hit soft flesh against the hard table surface.

"You will only hurt yourself, Maura."

Jane knew how many times she herself had broken knuckles in stunts of frustration like this. And Maura's hands were much more delicate than hers.

Maura's eyes were welled in tears.

"There is no improvement." She stated, bitterly.

"Maura, you told me yourself that certain things would take time, and certain things were irreparable." Jane tried, as gently as she could, still holding Maura's fist and stroking her thumb on the back of Maura's hand in a calming motion. "Besides, it has been just a few days, and without any specialist. It is just the beginning."

Jane knew the feeling well. How many times she had thought about biting a .40 caliber painkiller when Hoyt maimed her and the prognosis of her ever recovering movement in her hands was bleak? Jane could not disregard Maura's frustration because she knew it on her own skin.

"My precision, with the scalpel…" Maura sighed, moving her hands awkwardly.

"I know you were famous for your neat stitching on corpses, Maura. But you are not a plastic surgeon, or a cardiac or brain surgeon for that matter. If your incision and your stitches are not picture perfect, news flash: the patient is dead, and vanity is not their main priority."

Maura shook her head. Jane knew that anything less than perfect in Maura's mind professionally meant a failure.

"You will get there, Maura. It took me six months to relearn how to shoot. It has been only six weeks since you were wounded. And you still have not even started the professional PT. You will get there; I have faith in you."