Series title: Whumptober 2024
Chapters: 1/1
Characters: Jane Rizzoli / Angela Rizzoli / Maura Isles
Trigger warnings: Mentions of death and drugs
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 "Sunburnt" posted on day 5.
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.
Jane blinked her eyes open. She was met with harsh artificial lights that nearly blinded her. She groaned and raised a hand to protect her eyes. Her headache had turned into a bearable ache and the room temperature was much cooler than she remembered. What was the last thing she remembered? Boston was on fire, and she was on extended duty. The heat was unbearable, and she was inside a burning building to evacuate as much people as she could find in. After that, nothing. Had she died in the line of duty and gone straight to Heaven? What else could it be? She had split her team to work efficiently but that method had its risks, especially in her job. If you didn't have a partner by your side and had an issue, it was the end for you. Unless you were found in time. But with the amount of work they had on their hands, little were the chances to be found if something happened to you.
Heaven was strangely noisy tough. Phones were ringing, people were chatting and laughing. An annoying beep was repeatedly echoing in her empty brain. Alarm clocks were diabolical invention. Surely you wouldn't find any of these in paradise. So that meant she wasn't dead. She had survived the raging fire once again. She had no memory of how she got out of the building, no memory even of getting home and collapsing in bed.
She moved her hand slowly, giving her eyes time to get used to the blinding light. She groaned again at the ache in her muscles. Working overtime always left her sore. She would have to soak in a warm bath to help her body with that. And also eat. And drink. Her mouth was dry. She was so damn thirsty.
"Jane?"
She turned her head toward the voice and blinked to clear her sight and see properly who was sitting by her bedside. She wasn't surprised to see her Ma. She would always come around and grumble about how she hated that her little girl was doing such a dangerous job and that she should just have chosen a safer career.
"Oh, God, you're awake."
Jane frowned at the relief she could hear in her voice and see on her face. Her mother always tended to exaggerate but she had no reason to have been worried about her when all she did was getting the sleep she needed and deserved.
She rubbed her eyes. Her brain was sluggish, as if she had taken a sleeping pill and couldn't shake it from her system. She had never used such method to fall asleep before. Had she been drugged? She wouldn't have gone to the pub and got wasted to the point of blacking out, right? That would explain her condition.
Her mother was rambling about the worry she was once again putting her through and how it would kill them both one day. She had heard it a thousand times already. Instead, she observed her surroundings. Her brain was slower than usual in recognising a place she had yet so often visited in her life. She was lying in a hospital room, a drip in her arm, electrodes stuck to her chest and a cannula in her nose. Something must have happened on the field then.
She spotted a carafe and a glass on her left. She reached for it but was too short of a couple inches. Her mother was lost in her ramble and didn't notice her attempt at grabbing the water. She wetted her chapped lips, but her mouth was too dry, and her tongue was numb. It didn't respond like it should. Whatever they had given her, it was a strong one.
"Wa-teeer," she slurred.
She was hoping to catch her mother attention and was glad when Angela stopped talking and poured water in the glass. Jane's movements were uncoordinated, so her Ma helped her to drink from the glass. The water was cool and felt incredibly good in her dry mouth. The second glass was just as good as the first.
"Thanks."
She hated how she sounded drunk without even drinking any alcohol. Saying just a word was requiring too much energy. She closed her eyes again. Now that she was somewhat rehydrated, she could slip back into the sleep that was calling for her.
Her mother was stroking her head now and humming a song she used to sing to her when she was a little girl. She was always singing it to her after a nightmare or when she was sick. It comforted her and helped her to fall back asleep. It hadn't happened in years as she grew up and refused to be treated as a kid ever again. But today, it was fine. And she too was fine with the soft kiss on her forehead just as she was falling asleep again.
When she woke up much later that day, her mind was much clearer. She was still confused about what had happened for her to be in that hospital room but at least she could think clearly again and pour herself a glass of water on her own. Her body was still aching, but the headache was completely gone. So was her mother, but considering the darkness in the room, it must be the middle of the night. She probably had been kicked out at the end of the visiting hours. She would be alone for the rest of the night.
She noticed the TV on the wall facing her bed. The remote had conveniently been placed within arm reach. She grabbed it and switched the screen on. She picked a 24/7 news channel. She was relieved to see that rain had finally invited itself in Boston and helped the firefighters to put out the remaining fires. Some sites were still under close surveillance just in case.
Jane was more affected by the report of the casualties. Over the last few days, 136 people had died from the heatwave and fires, 248 people had been taken in charge by the emergency's services. 11 firefighters died in the line of duty; 52 others (including herself) had been admitted to the hospital, and the material damages came to thousands of dollars. It was sad but it could have been much worse.
She cut the sound of the TV when she heard a knock on her door. She thought it was a nurse coming to check on her but instead, it was a woman dressed in clothes that certainly cost more than her annual earnings. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her heart skipped a beat when the woman gave her a warm smile.
"I heard that you woke up today. I wanted to check on you. You're doing much better than the day I ordered for you to be brought here."
The woman was familiar, but her brain was having a hard time remembering her name. She was certain to have already met her a couple times before. Probably in a more professional framework. She was a doctor according to the badge hanging on the lapel of her jacket.
"I'm sorry, we met before, but I can't remember your name."
"Confusion is a common symptom after a heatstroke. You were a particularly bad case. You were lucky that your partners found you in time. They dragged you out of the building just as it was collapsing on you. You took a blow to the head and are only suffering a minor concussion. You were severely dehydrated, had speech impairment, hallucinations and a raging fever."
"That was my next question but thank for shedding some light on what happened. I don't remember anything after I stepped into that building. Are you my doctor or something?"
"I'm afraid you are too alive to be in my care."
A silence followed these words, and the woman made an apologetic face for her wrong choice of words when Jane had once again come so close to losing her life on the field. The joke wasn't intentional though. The woman was just talking literally. Jane laughed, but her visitor still looked deadly embarrassed.
"Oh, I remember now. You're the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Dr. Maura Isles, amirite?"
"You are."
"Ah, sorry to disappoint. You won't get to see me naked on your table just yet, Dr. Isles."
Jane laughed to her own joke. Dr. Isles didn' had to remind herself of the rumours going on about this woman, especially among the Homicide detectives, saying that she was cold and awkward and weird. Darius Crowe had heard about her from his brother, Darren, who worked with Dr. Isles. The pigs were talking about her like a piece of meat they would like to conquer. Disgusting.
"It was a joke."
"Sorry. I'm not good with these. Or with people. They call me Ice Queen at work."
"That's not a nice nickname."
Dr. Isles shrugged. She was used to the mean nicknames, used to people talking in her back, and since she wasn't good at interacting with other people. Jane found her awkwardness and enticing. Plus, this woman totally saved her life.
"Well, Dr. Isles, let me buy you a coffee when I'll be out of here.
"Why would you do that?"
"You saved my life, and you even came to check on me. That's a good start for a friendship."
"A friendship?"
Jane gave her a smile. This woman was clueless and adorable. She wanted to be her friend, wanted to show her that people weren't all assholes like the Crowes. And according to the small smile and the positive answer to the invitation, Dr. Isles was interested in the friendship she was offering her...
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. :)