Series title: Whumptober 2023

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Maura Isles / Joe Harris / Kent Drake / Jane Rizzoli

Trigger warnings: Blood

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.

She hadn't slept in days. She just couldn't. Every time she was closing her eyes, vivid images of her captivity were coming back to her and giving her panic attacks that she had a hard time recovering from. She had seen a therapist. It was mandatory for her to return to work. She had been given meds supposed to help her sleep and control her anxiety, but she wasn't taking them. She refused to have her brain intoxicated with those substances. She was certain that other solutions could be found to help her with her trauma. She just had to find the right person that would help her in finding that solution. She was looking into other specialists, looking for advice and reading studies about PTSD. She wasn't specialised in psychology, but it didn't take a genius to understand that it was what she was going through and that she needed more than a couple pills.

She was doing her job just fine despite a few glitches here and there. No one had noticed anything, but when had anyone noticed anything about her? Her best friend was too busy with trying to find the psychopath targeting her to check on her and she didn't blame her. She too would want to know who was attempting to destroy her completely. Jane had her own issues; he didn't need Maura to add more on her shoulders. She kept to herself the sleepless nights, the nightmares and the panic attacks. Was it how Jane felt after Hoyt? How had she moved away of that slippery slope? Maura would never ask. Jane didn't like talking about Hoyt. She understood why now. At least, she didn't have any scar to remind her of her ordeal in the tunnels. It was a relief. She had enough to deal with in her mind to struggle with physical marks.

As an intelligent woman who had followed a a medical course, she had seen the consequences of sleep deprivation. She had seen patients suffering from insomnia facing temper and anxiety issues, drowsiness as well as hallucinations. The motor and cognitive functions were impacted. After three days of no sleep, your body and brain would go through unintentional phases of micro sleep, meaning that an individual would doze off for a few seconds. The risks for the mental and physical health increased at that point with confusion, depersonalisation and a decline of your immune system making them more vulnerable to any passing virus or sickness. The cognitive functions and ability to think would seriously be compromised with strong hallucinations indiscernible from reality. Past 96 hours without sleep, you were unlikely able to make a difference between reality and hallucinations.

It was easy for her to keep an eye on her symptoms as she went through the days without barely any sleep. She hid the bags under her eyes with foundation and under-eye concealer. So far it was the only sign that she wasn't getting any sleep. Not that anyone would notice it anyway. She understood why Jane was ingesting so much coffee in a day. She had brought her own coffee maker to her office so she wouldn't have to go to the Division One Café and draw attention on her issues. Her office was her bubble of safety. She could pretend to be overwhelmed with paperwork so no one would ask questions.

"Are you sure about that, Dr. Isles?"

Maura looked up from her computer screen. Her chest was tight. She rubbed her eyes, unsure of what she was seeing because there, perched on the arm of her couch, was Dr. Joe Harris, the man who had kidnapped her and put her through Hell days ago.

"What?"

It was inelegant and unusual of her to blurt that word out. It wasn't like her to react like that to something shocking her. She had spent too much time with Jane and her manners were getting to her. She would have to be careful next time she saw her mother, or she would get a lecture on her company. Although Constance appreciated Jane, they were from two different worlds.

"Are you sure nobody is gonna ask questions?"

"How did you get here?"

"You needed a therapist. I am a therapist."

"You did this to me."

"It wasn't again you. It still isn't."

"You don't even know who she is, why would you go after her?"

"Jane isn't the nice and caring friend everyone thinks she is, don't you agree, Maura?"

Maura ignored him. She refused to argue with a man who was willing to destroy Jane's life before killing her. She had faced Charles Hoyt once, and she didn't waver. Joe Harris was nothing compared to the Surgeon. She looked back at her screen.

"She only brings pain and grief wherever she goes," he whispered in her ear.

She hadn't heard him move, and now he was turned her chair for her to face him. His hands gripped each armrest, trapping her in her chair while his body towered her with a smug smile.

"But you know that better than anyone, don't you? How she blames you for acting out of character when a family friend was murdered? Or when she had a go at you for not telling her that the FBI was gonna arrest her brother? Oh, and what about that time she shot your father?"

Maura clenched her teeth and looked away. She couldn't let him see that he had hit a nerve. Many times Jane had made fun of her or been awful to her because of the stress she was going through. Maura had never held it against her and had always been there for her. But Jane... Where was she right now? Why wasn't she there to help her to deal with her own stress?

"Dr. Isles?"

Maura blinked. Harris was gone and Kent was standing in the doorway. He was giving her a concerned look that she brushed aside.

"The body of a Jane Doe just arrived. Do you want me to perform the autopsy?"

"It's fine. I'll do it. Thank you, Kent."

Maura got up and put her chair under her desk. Kent was about to leave but he changed his mind at the last time and faced his boss.

"Did you know that a study scientifically proved that speaking to oneself is a sign of intelligence?"

"I did."

"But it's also associated to maladaptive daydreaming although it is not recognised as an official mental issue. It's often considered as one of the first signs of schizophrenia or the beginning of some psychosis."

"I do know that, thank you," she snapped.

Her tone suggested that she would take no more of these random facts he was throwing her, so he left. Maura Isles wasn't the kind of women to hold a grudge against you or have a go at you for something so insignificant, but he wasn't ready to risk his job.

"He's right."

Her hand gripped her scalpel. She didn't even remember changing into scrubs and preparing the body. She was about to do the Y incision on the chest. Joe Harris was sat on a free table, his legs dangling above the ground, in an imitation of Jane's favourite position when she was coming to witness an autopsy.

"You're going crazy, Dr. Isles."

"I'm perfectly sane."

"Really? Why are you talking to me then?"

She spun around. That time again, she hadn't seen or heard Harris move. He was standing before her now. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She stepped back, her back hit the table. She was stuck between him and Jane Doe's body.

"I'm dead, Dr. Isles. Jane shot me."

"She told me."

"You cut my throat, and she shot me in the chest. Twice."

The wounds appeared just as he mentioned them, and blood dripped on the floor. Joe Harris laughed. Maura was petrified.

"So why am I still here, Dr. Isles?"

He made a move toward her. She screamed and chucked her scalpel at his face. He was laughing still as the blade created a long gash on his cheek. She tried again, but he stopped her by catching both of her wrists and holding them above her shoulders.

She dropped the scalpel to the ground. She jumped at the sound it made. It was kicked away by a boot she recognised as Jane's. She blinked. Joe Harris wasn't there. He had never been there. Instead, Jane was standing before her and holding her wrists. Blood was running down the slit on her cheek and dripping on her shirt. She hadn't attacked Harris. She had attacked Jane. Jane who was sincerely worried about her friend's loss of control.

"Kent called me. He was worried about you."

"And you came?"

Guilt filled her for even thinking that Jane didn't care about her. She was more affected by her lack of sleep when she thought, and people had noticed it. She wasn't alone in that. She had friends. She had Jane. Jane who had rushed down when she was called.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know."

"I'm driving you home, alright? We'll run you a warm bath with Yo-Yo Ma's music, get you a cup of that weird tea you love so much and put you to bed."

Maura was gonna protest that they both had work, but Jane quickly shut her up. She would tell Cavanaugh that she needed a break, and she would call the Governor herself to explain the situation to them for Maura to get a few days off to recover from the traumatic experience she had gone through. The medical examiner crumpled, suddenly unable to stand by herself, and was caught by Jane who held her tight against her and rubbed her back.

"W-would you stay with me?"

"I'm not leaving you alone until you're feeling better."

Maura held back her sobs as Jane led her out of the precinct. She regretted even doubting Jane at all. She owned a lot of things, but it was all material. Nothing could compare to the friendship there was between her Jane and her. It was the most precious thing of all...