Series title: Whumptober 2023

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Maura Isles / Jane Rizzoli

Trigger warnings: Death, Major Character Death

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/N2: Second part of "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."


Maura Isles would never forget that day. She would never forget about her heart dropping in her chest when she was called on the scene of a shootout. She had to assess the bodies and declare them dead before they were taken to the morgue. She was told that two police officers were on the list of victims. Never had she imagined that her friends were on that list. A dead cop was always a hard blow for the force that would mourn them and hunt down the culprits to send them behind bars. That was if they were lucky. Cop killers were usually sentenced to death by other cops. They had very little chances to save their lives, even if they went to prison. It was easy when you knew people to have someone eliminated. Maura herself knew who to go to of anything happened to a friend of hers. Having a mob boss father could be useful one day.

She saw Frost first. Two men from the gang were near him. One with a single perfect shot to the heart. The other had died from the important blood loss caused by multiple gunshots. Detective Frost had a bullet stuck in his vest. Another had hit his knee. The last one, the one that killed him, had hit his neck, tearing the jugular vein apart. No chance of survival. She closed his eyes, pronounced him dead and had officers covering him with a white sheet. She wanted him to be escorted to the morgue with the honours he deserved. Her heart ached. Barry Frost had been a good friend, a nice guy and an excellent detective taken too young because back up had failed to be there on time. His cartridge clips were empty, but that wouldn't have made a difference had he had had more ammunitions. His service gun was no match for the weapons they had on the other side.

She hadn't been told who were the officers involved in the shootout. And if she had been told, she would have had to ask for a colleague to do the job because she had personal ties with the fallen officers. Her eyes found Jane's body slouched against a pyramid of barrels. The hole in her head left no doubt on the cause of death. Her legs buckled under her. A uniform caught her. He was crying. Everyone who had known Jane and Frost was affected by their sudden deaths. Death on the line of duty. Ironically, Jane would have loved it. Her job was everything to her. She would be considered as a hero once again. That, she would have hated. She was too humble. But Jane Rizzoli was a hero. As was Barry Frost. It was a meagre consolation for their families. The title wouldn't replace the persons they had lost.

Maura couldn't take her eyes off Jane's body. She could hear Korsak and Cavanaugh's voices. They had gotten the call too. She panicked. She couldn't let Korsak see Jane like that. Her had been her mentor, her superior, her friend, her father figure. It would destroy him to see her body. She had to cover her before they reached the perimeter.

Quickly she moved away from the arms holding her up and nearly crawled to Jane to do her job. The lump of sobs stuck in her throat was suffocating her as she pronounced her friend's death officially. She was about to cover her with the white sheet when she noticed a light twitch of the fingers. She frowned. Was it her pain and desperate need to believe that Jane could survive once again that was causing her to hallucinate? Or was it real? She grabbed Jane's hand and looked for a pulse. The fingers twitched against her hand. She focused on the pulse. Her hand was trembling so much that she had issues figuring out what she was feeling. And suddenly, it was there. A faint pulse right under the tip of her fingers.

"Call a bus, she's still alive!"

The EMTs made it to the warehouse faster than Maura had ever seen them. They had been called by the receptionist who got Jane on the phone. She had mentioned her partner being shot. An ambulance had immediately been requested and had been waiting on site since then. It was a chance for Jane since they had no time to waste.

Maura refused to leave her any second. Not even when the paramedics assessed her wound and stabilised her before moving her to the gurney. Not even when they loaded her in the back of the ambulance. She left the crime scene to other specialists.

She gave as many details as she could to the paramedics so they could work properly on Jane. The wound was nasty, and it was a miracle that she was alive. Removing it would be a complicated task. The surgery would take hours. If Jane was holding on until they reached the hospital. Which was uncertain according to the flatline and strident cry of the heart monitor. Maura was pushed away. She had to let go of her hand. She could only watch as they worked on her friend to revive her.

Jane made it to the hospital. She made it through the surgery. But she was declared in the coma after twenty-four hours. The surgeon wouldn't make a prognostic on her chances at recovery. The bullet had done a lot of damages. They were unsure if she would even wake up one day, and if she woke up, she wouldn't be the same person she was before she was shot.

Maura was allowed in the room. Her self-control was shattered when she saw the fragile frame of her friend in that bed. They had shaved her head to have a full access to the wound during the surgery. Now the top of her head was wrapped in gauze. At least, she was breathing by herself, and her heartbeats were steady. She pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Hold on, Jane," she whispered against her skin. "Hold on for me. Don't go where I can't follow."

She grabbed Jane's hand and pressed it to her heart. Her thumb was rushing over her friend's pulse point. The feel of the steady heartbeats was comforting. Jane was alive. She would make it through. They just had to be patient and believe in her...