Series title: Whumptober 2024

Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Jane Rizzoli / Maura Isles

Trigger warnings: Fire, Vomit

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.

All of these stories are only meant to be one-shots, but last year has proven that it can easily change. Those one-shots are written as part of the 2024 Whumptober challenge. I'm following the list of prompts and didn't intend to write second parts for any of the one-shots. That's why they're all posted separately.

The fire was furiously consuming the entire building, adding an extra source of heat to the already scorching Boston's weather. An unprecedented heatwave was washing over the country. Summer was hitting hard this year and giving no respite to emergency services who were overwhelmed with calls for intervention. Most of these calls were cases of fainting fits caused by dehydration but more serious cases were also to lament, serious cases that too often ended up with death due to the too numerous calls overloading the lines and the impossibility to answer to them all in time. Consequently, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner was constantly being called to record deaths and take them to the local morgue where they would wait to be transferred to their final home to be able to rest in peace at last.

Firefighters too were overwhelmed with calls. The heat was an endless trigger of fires throughout town. It was messing up with power lines, causing short circuits that degenerated into fires. Those were accidental. Even with all the precautions of the world, you couldn't predict or totally prevent these incidents. Neither could you predict lightning hitting a particularly dry area, creating sparks that immediately set on fire. Because of the drought, these fires were particularly complicated to overcome and put out. Every firefighter was out in the streets, fighting fires alongside volunteer firefighters and other committed civilians. It was an all-hands on deck situation and everyone was doing their best to survive this episode in their lives.

Lieutenant Jane Rizzoli was part of the many firefighters deployed all around Boston. She had been on duty for the last 48 hours and had been fighting different fires in the lower town. She had doubts that these were all accidental but didn't have the time to share them with her captain. It would have to wait until the fires were under control. She and her team had been relentlessly attacking those fires on all sides since they were called the previous day. The merciless heat of the fires and sun was taking a toll on them. She had had to order some of her guys to have breaks, and remind them to drink as much water as they could during those periods of time. They couldn't afford losing anyone in the middle of this mess. As hot and tired as they were, they had to keep going so Boston would be safe from the ravages of the heatwave.

She collapsed on the seat of the main truck on scene. Thankfully the warehouse they had just intervened on was empty. It had done no victim and no material had been lost. It was a small relief, but it was still good to take after spending hours in Hell on Earth. If she was to believe her mother, she would have thought that the Apocalypse had come. The current situation in Boston was close enough, but it was nothing they hadn't been able to handle or keep under control so far. They were being lucky. Luck was only temporary though and it would turn and something worse would fall on their heads. It was what Angela Rizzoli kept telling her daughter anyway. Jane had constantly been playing with her luck, being reckless and surviving everything life was throwing her way. She had even more lives than a cat.

Jane removed her helmet and placed it beside her on the seat. She grabbed one of the water bottles they were keeping in the truck and downed half of it in one go. Her head was pounding from the heat and the lack of sleep. She wouldn't take an aspirin though. She needed to keep a clear mind in case another call would come in. In all honestly, the only call she was expecting right now was the one telling her she was off duty for the next few days. Or weeks. She was used to push her body and mind over their limits. It was often necessary in her line of work, and she never was reluctant to do so for said work to be done properly. She just deserved a break right now. She would shower to scrub the smell of smoke away from her skin and collapse in her bed. She would have to eat too at some point but it could wait still.

She downed the rest of the water bottle and jumped down to the ground. For a few seconds, her vision was filled with black dots. She blinked them away. Now wasn't the time to show weakness. They still had work to do on this scene.

"Wow, Rizzoli. You look like shit."

"And I'm still your superior, Crowe."

Darius Crowe was as much of an asshole as his older brother Darren whom Jane had met a couple times on scenes of criminal fires that had caused the death of one or more. Both were misogynistic, thought women couldn't be in high ranks (unless they were sucking the big boss' dick) and since they were doing men's jobs, they had to be gay. These guys had remained stuck in the Middle Age's way of thinking and Jane was either ignoring them or answering with a sarcastic comment. That usually shut them up.

Crowe was a simple firefighter with no stripe. He should know better than to bother a superior that could have him fired for insubordination. Fighting fires was a dangerous job, and you better trust your partners for it to be done safely. If you were distrustful of one member of your team for a reason or another, it could cause lots of issues, especially on the field.

"We got everything under control, Lieutenant," reported another firefighter. "We're securing the place and putting away the equipment."

She nodded and put herself to work. She supervised the securing of the premises and helped putting all the equipment back in the trucks. The work was done in silence, they were all exhausted and the sun was ruthless on them. She forced her team to drink water and rest whenever they were having a moment a weakness. Herself wasn't feeling the best. Her head was pounding, her stomach was upset. But it was part of her role to make sure her team was okay. Her own issues came last.

They were loading the last truck when the radio crackled and dispatch called for anyone in their area to respond to a fire in a block of flats in the lower town. All units available were requested. Police units and ambulances were already on their way to evacuate the district as the fire was spreading quickly. As exhausted as they all were, Jane's team answered the call. It was their duty, for better and for worse.

Jane jumped out of the truck as soon as it was on the scene. Just like her team, she had pulled her full gear back on during the short journey to the fire site. They were the first team to arrive. She yelled her instructions and everyone quickly got to work. Half of them would handle the fire from the outside while the other half would go inside and evacuate everyone.

The fire was already raging inside the building when Jane stepped in. Finding the source and determining whether it was an accident, or a voluntary act of criminality wouldn't be easy. The roaring of the flames and the sound of her breathing in the mask were deafening to her ears and increasing her already awful headache. She shouldn't still be working. She was pushing herself too far, but she wasn't alone in this. Boston needed them to be working at their full capacity. They didn't care that she had been up for forty-eight hours and had barely eaten or had any rest since then. They didn't care that she could barely stand or think clearly anymore. And she would never admit her weakness. She had worked too hard to be where she was, to be respected by all the idiot males working under her orders. If she was admitting her weakness now, in the face of the biggest hardship they ever met, they wouldn't respect her anymore and think, just like Crowe, that she didn't deserve to be in this position.

She blinked and climbed the staircase to the upper floors. Wait, when did she get on those stairs? Last thing she remembered was walking in the building. They were going through all the floors to evacuate everyone. She read the panel on top of the stairs. Third floor. How had she climbed up there without noticing? She was usually attentive to every detail, even when she was tired. She swallowed. She was dehydrated. The small bottle of water she had downed earlier hadn't been enough. She needed more.

The fire was rapidly gaining ground on this floor. She stumbled to the nearest door. She was having a hard time controlling her body as if someone was giving her limbs different orders. She rested her head against the door and closed her eyes. The flames were getting closer, the structure of the building was collapsing around her and she couldn't move.

"Janie!"

Her eyes snapped open. She frantically looked around her until she caught the silhouette of a little boy a few feet away from her, surrounding by the flames and fragments of the building structure. He was terrified and coughing because of the thick dark smoke that filled the corridor.

"Frankie?"

What was her little brother doing here? What was she doing here? The ground shook under her feet and more of the ceiling broke and fell on them. The boy screamed. Jane forced her cramped muscles to move. She clumsily rushed forward, toward the Frankie, tripping on her own feet.

"Gonna get ya outta here."

Frankie was coughing more and more. Why couldn't she reach him? Why was he getting away from her as soon as she was getting closer? Where was he gone now? She looked around her but couldn't see or hear him anymore.

The ground shook again. She fell on her knees. Her stomach rumbled. She reached for the mask obstructing her face and tried to rip it off before she could get sick. Her fingers fumbled with the system keeping the mask in place on her face, flames were licking her body now, adding on the extreme heat.

"Lieutenant!"

Her body was dragged away from the flames, dragged away from the little Frankie who had reappeared and was calling for her. She weakly fought the person taking her away, pushed through the dry month and furry tongue to mumble that her little brother was in there and that he needed saving.

She was hoisted on strong shoulders. She ceased her struggling, too weak to do anything but call her brother's name in a mostly incoherent rambling. The person carrying her was talking but she couldn't make out the words. They sounded like a foreign language to her ears.

"I need a doctor here!"

She was carefully placed on a shady spot on the ground, outside of the burning building. Hands were getting rid of her gear, unzipping her uniform until she was in just her shirt and pants. Faces around her were a blur, and words didn't make sense.

A water bottle was pressed to her lips but she didn't have the reflex to swallow the cool liquid. She choked on it and rolled on her side when she started dry-heaving. Cool water was poured on her face, neck and upper body. Cold hands were touching her skin and she leant into the pleasant touch.

"Lieutenant Rizzoli, I'm Dr. Maura Isles. We've met once, do you remember?"

"Mauurrr," she slurred.

"I need you to stay with me, Lieutenant, alright?"

"Can't."

Her eyelids were dropping and she was incapable of drinking any of the water that was presented to her mouth. Hushed voices were talking about her but they were farther and farther as if they were done with her and were abandoning her there.

"She needs to be taken to the hospital now!"

This was the last thing she heard. The rest was drowned in the darkness that swallowed her whole despite the pleas of the honey sweet voice of Dr. Maura Isles who wanted her to stay conscious…

On a cherrier note, we're organising a Rizzoli and Isles Secret Santa. Signs-up are open from October 1 to October 31. Check it out on rizzoliandislesecretsanta on Tumblr. :)