Series title: Whumptober 2023

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Maura Isles / Jane Rizzoli / Frankie Rizzoli / Charles Hoyt

Trigger warnings: Alcohol, Grief/Mourning, Rape, Self-Loathing, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt

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.

A/N 2: To the guests commenting on my recent works, thank you a lot. Writing a one-shot a day all along October is quite a challenge, hence why they are feeling unfinished most of the time. I'm trying my best, and I appreciate your feedback. 3

"It should have been me."

Her voice was raw and her eyes were dry. She clung to the bottle of wine she had downed. She was speaking to no one in particular. No one was listening anyway. She was alone. Alone with herself and the empty bottles that were piling up around her. No one was there to tell her that she was drinking too much, that she should take a shower and clean her place, that she should talk to someone. Not that she would have cared or listened anyway. She was dealing with her emotions like she always did: by herself. She didn't need anyone to tell her what to feel and what to do. She was doing just fine on her own. Or she thought she was at least. But she wouldn't let anyone see her like that. It would hurt them. They would have pity of her. She didn't need their pity. She didn't need them. She didn't deserve any of them around her.

It was her fault. Everything was her fault. Everyone around her would tell her that it wasn't, but she knew the truth. If it hadn't been for her, she wouldn't have been hurt. She should have gone there alone. She shouldn't have taken her as she walked toward a certain death. That's how it should have ended. She should never have been there. It should never have been her.

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!"

The bottle flew across the room and hit the wall with such force that it broke and sent pieces of broken glass everywhere. She didn't care. She would clean later. Or not. It didn't matter anymore. No one was there to make any negative comment on the way she kept her place. She wouldn't let them in. She wouldn't let anyone in anymore.

She ignored the banging on her front door. It wasn't the first time they tried. They all did at least once. It's been a week now, and every day, they had come and banged on her door and begged for her to open or to come out. They wouldn't leave her alone. When one was leaving, another was replacing them. The first days, she had told them off. The third day, she had started ignoring them. It was better for everyone if she pretended to be dead to the world. They would be safer that way. She only brought pain and death in her wake.

She dragged herself to the kitchen and selected a new bottle. She almost smiled but choked on a sob instead. That bottle, she had chosen it for her birthday. They never got to drink it together. Another thing moment they wouldn't share. Another moment gone to the trash. All because of Charles Hoyt.

She pushed the bottle away. She wouldn't touch that one. It was one of the last gifts she had done to her in a way, because she never got to properly give it to her. They never celebrated that birthday. He had forever turned that day to a sad one. She wished she could forget but the images were playing on a loop in her mind. Charles Hoyt was dead, but he was still having a tight grip on her. He made sure she would never forget.

She remembered it all as if it had happened moments and not days ago. His hand was a vice around her throat. She was begging for help, but no one came. The warden was keeping Maura away with a Taser. He was Hoyt's accomplice. The ties were so tight around her wrists that they were cutting into her skin. She could hear Maura crying and begging for him to let go of her. But it was all fun to him. He was taking all his time to explain how he had managed to bring her back to him for that very moment, to nick her neck and watch the blood trickle down her skin. He was dying, and he wanted to take them with him. He was so convinced that he had won. He had turned his back on her, had his pet holding her down while he walked to Maura. Her fear was paralysing her, Mason was holding her too tight. She couldn't rescue her friend.

They made her watch as Hoyt applied the Taser to Maura's neck and turned it on. Maura took the blow and fell on her back. She was him to not touch her, to leave her alone. She was fighting Mason, trying to free herself from his tight hold, but she wasn't strong enough and her screams of despair were only amusing them. Mason held her down as Hoyt nicked Maura's neck, as he pulled up her skirt. Maura wasn't moving. Jane closed her eyes. She didn't want to see that. Mason loosened her hold on her to force her to open them. That was her moment. She headbutted him, kicked his groin and tasered him. Her next move was to grab Hoyt and throw him away from Maura. She was too late. He had already soiled her. She fought him with all her might until her hands closed around the scalpel. She stabbed him in the chest, felt his blood flow on her hands and yet, he had won.

Jane would never be able to forgive herself for letting him get to Maura. She would never forget when Korsak pulled her up and she saw Frost calling for help, when she saw all the blood covering her friend. Her knees buckled. Korsak caught her.

Next thing she knew she was home, alone. She had been taken to the hospital, had been taken care of and sent back home. She hadn't left her place since then, hadn't gone back to the hospital, hadn't asked if Maura made it through. No one had told her. Or maybe they did and she hadn't listened. She had smashed her phone against a wall and ignored everyone. She had shut herself away from the external world. She couldn't face anyone. It should have been her in Maura's place. It was her that Hoyt wanted. Why did he have to take Maura? Why couldn't he have taken her? In the end, he was the one who won. He had taken her best friend with him and had left her there to deal with her guilt and self-loathing.

"Jane, no!"

She blinked. She was sat on the ground of her small kitchen, back against the counter. She had her gun in hand and had placed the mouth of it under her chin. The security was off, her finger was on the trigger. Her brother was on his knees before her, a hand on hers to force her to put her gun down. He had followed his guts and kicked down the door. And he was right to follow his instincts. He had intervened just in time to stop Jane before she did a mistake.

"She wouldn't want you to do that."

"It should have been me."

Her hand was trembling. She was crying. Frankie was too. What a fright she must have given him. She let him take the gun from her hand and put the security back on. He placed it away from her reach and hugged her tight against him. She didn't fight. She didn't have the strength to.

"He forced me to watch. She was crying and begging, and I couldn't do anything."

"She doesn't blame you, Janie."

"I was so scared. I couldn't move and when I did... It was too late."

"Jane."

"He took her from me."

"Jane."

"He should have killed me."

Frankie broke the hug and forced Jane to look up at him. The seriousness of his face took her aback. She wasn't used to seeing such an expression on her little brother's face. He was gripping her arms so tight that he was hurting her, but she wasn't even aware of that physical pain. Her pain was all in her heart.

"Maura is alive, Jane. She's alive and well. We've been trying to tell you for days, but you wouldn't answer the door."

A long silence followed Frankie's words. Jane's exhausted and inebriated brain was trying to understand what it meant. Maura was alive. Hoyt hadn't killed her.

"She's asked for you ever since she woke up."

"Why would she want to see me?"

"Because you saved my life, Jane."

Both Rizzolis looked up at the sound of Maura's voice. The medical examiner was standing barely two feet away from them and watching the scene with sad eyes. Jane had thought that she was dead. Jane had refused to talk to anyone because she was mourning her.

Frankie helped Jane up and moved aside for the two friends to reunite. Jane leant against the counter for support. Maura closed the distance between them. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"None of what happened was your fault. You did everything you could, and you killed him before he murdered me. I was stunned, but I remember."

"Still, he hurt you because of me."

"He has wanted to hurt me since I faced him in that interrogation room. Not only to hurt you, but because I challenged him. I proved him that I was better than him."

None of what Maura could say would change Jane's mind. Maura had met up with Charles Hoyt because she wanted to find out what he had in mind. Maura was out of words to convince her friend that she didn't have to blame herself for what happened so she just took her in her arms and hugged her. Jane returned the hug, tighter than she usually did for her brain to register that her friend was alive. It would take a lot of time for them to heal from that terrible moment in their life, but together, they could get over everything...