Series title: Whumptober 2023

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Maura Isles / Jane Rizzoli

Trigger warnings: Domestic violence, blood, bruises

A/N: The characters and universe don't belong to me. All rights go to TNT, and everyone involved in the production of Rizzoli and Isles, as well as Tess Gerritsen. Everything else belongs to my twisted imagination.

Maura Isles was enjoying her day off with a warm cup of her favourite tea (the one Jane was always refusing because it was growing in panda poop) and the latest medical reviews she had received through the mail. She had comfortably settled down in her armchair in the quiet living-room after her morning routine and was now so engrossed in an interesting study that she had shut away the world around her. Anyone could come in the house, and she wouldn't notice it. She thankfully had an excellent alarm set to avoid that kind of inconveniences. It was mandatory when you were working with the forces of law and order. Even more when you were Paddy Doyle's biological daughter, although she hadn't had to worry about his impromptu visits ever since he was arrested and sent to some prison at the other end of the country.

The only daily visitor she had was Angela, and the woman had the key as well as the code to disable the alarm. Maura had given it all to her after she moved in the guest house. Angela was family to her. She trusted her with her home, and not once had Angela betrayed that trust. To her, Maura was a daughter. The one she wanted but didn't get as Jane was more of a tomboy much to her mother's despair. Nothing was predestining the Rizzoli family to meet with someone so different from them, but Maura hadn't wanted to stay in the higher circles of her social rank. It was funnier to try and fit in with the ordinary people. She would never have succeeded without Jane's help. Her lack of social skills had always been a source of mean teasing until Jane stood up for her. Things were easier when Jane was around.

However, Jane hadn't come around in months. She had resigned from her job shortly after Casey proposed to her and had followed him to the other end of the world. Maura wasn't bitter. Jane loved that man. She had married that man. It was only fair that she followed him when he was leaving. Maura was sad. By accepting to marry him, Jane had given up on everything that made her the extraordinary person that she was. She had even given up on her family and friends. No one had had news from her after she left Boston. It was a hard blow for Maura, but even more for Angela who had confided to the medical examiner that she never liked Casey, that something about him was off. Maura was clueless about what she could possibly mean there. She didn't like Casey either, but it was only because he had stolen Jane from her.

Her best friend hadn't left her mind at all since she was gone. Maura missed her every single day. She missed her at work when she would come down and watch her perform an autopsy and help her with the bodies, when she would show her impatience because of Maura's wordy and incomprehensible monologues, when she would check on her during emotionally complicated cases. Maura missed her at home when Jane would show up in the morning for them to go to work together, when they would come home together and have a drink. And she missed their evenings out at the Dirty Robber. She missed Jane every hour of every day and every single day she wished for Jane to return to her. Not that she believed that wishes could come true. She believed in scientific facts and wishes weren't scientific facts.

She often dreamt about what Jane's return would look like, about what Jane would look like if she ever came back, about their reactions, about what they would say to each other. None of these scenarios would ever happen but it was comforting her. Her heart was broken, but it couldn't let go of Jane. She had held a too important place in her life to be forgotten in a snap of fingers.

The doorbell pulled her out of her bubble. She had stopped reading her review the moment her thoughts drifted toward Jane. Now reality was knocking (well, ringing) at the edge of her consciousness to bring her back to the present moment. Whoever was at the door had no intention of leaving. They wouldn't let go of the doorbell.

Maura put her review and cup down on the coffee table and walked up to the door. She opened it without checking who it was through the peephole. She froze. Her heart dropped in her chest, she forgot how to breathe. Surely, she had to be dreaming for the ghost of Jane was standing in front of her. Her hair was messy and hadn't seen a shower in a while. Her eyes had sunk in their sockets and were underlined by dark bags. Her cheeks were hollow. She had a busted lip and a black eye. Her skin was sickly pale and covered in bruises at different stages of healing. She held herself up in a way that hid her pain to anyone who didn't know her well. That situation had never come to her mind in the hundreds of scenarios Maura had created over the months.

"Jane?"

The former detective was looking around her as if she expected someone to jump out of the shadows to get to her and her arms were wrapped around a swollen stomach. If Maura had been in a cartoon, her jaw would have reached the floor by now.

Jane shivered violently which made Maura painfully aware of how little clothed she was. She was only wearing a thin nightgown made of cheap cotton that had seen better days and she was bare feet. She looked like she had walked all the way to Beacon Hill like that. She was freezing and terrifyingly silent.

Maura finally snapped back to her senses and raised her hand to grab Jane's. Her heart wrenched in her chest when Jane moved away from her touch, protecting her unborn child from the supposed danger. Now Maura understood what Angela meant and anger flared up inside her followed by an immediate guilt when Jane stumbled away from her.

"Oh, Jane."

Her voice cracked. Tears welled up in her eyes. She raised her hand, palm up this time, and held it out to her friend. She waited patiently, an encouraging smile on her lips despite the tears she was holding back, for Jane to make the first move, for her to assess the situation and see that Maura meant no harm.

The hand Jane's finally placed on Maura's after a few minutes of gauging her friend was swollen, and dark. Her forefinger and middle fingers were out of place. The bruises on her wrist had the shape of a male hand. Her other hand was resting still on her stomach, thumb stroking the skin just above her belly button through the thin layer of clothes. It looked no better.

Slowly, Maura led Jane inside the house and locked the door behind them. She set the alarm and helped her friend to the living-room. She sat her down on the couch and gently wrapped a blanket around her shoulders to warm her up some. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to speed up the process but stopped when she saw the grimace of pain on her face. She still hadn't made a sound.

"I'm gonna get you a warm blanket and some tea. And the bag with my supplies. Stay here, alright? I'll be quick."

Jane didn't respond. Maura wasn't even sure her friend had heard her. She was in a deep state of shock and was reacting purely out of instinct to protect her baby. Typical Jane to protect others before herself. She would be an excellent mother.

She hadn't moved when Maura came back no more than five minutes later but tears were running silently down her cheeks. The medical examiner gave her tissues and a mug of tea and wrapped the thickest blanket she had found around her friend. Jane was jumpy, starting to every sound and every movement. Maura's heart was shattered to see her like that, but she promised herself and Jane to do everything she could to help her…