Chapter 6
Jane had driven around aimlessly for about an hour, not really knowing where to go.
She didn't want to go home. Because home meant Maura, and the honey blonde had made it very clear what she thought of Jane.
Maura thought Jane was a killer, and she was right.
On top of that, Jane was so angry with the doctor. She had just stood there, crying over a mobster, like she cared for that killer.
She had tried to help that… sperm donor, instead of trying to save Frost.
Jane knew she didn't want to deal with any of her other family members either. So that left her with few choices.
She finally stopped her car near the Boston harbor, she got out of her car and walked towards the water. She found a bench that would give her a fair amount of privacy and sat down, head in her hands.
Jane felt absolutely devastated.
There was nothing worse for an officer of the law than to lose your partner. Except, maybe, when it was your own mistake that got him killed.
Jane had gotten distracted, she had hesitated, and it had gotten Frost killed.
Her partner had saved her life, he had her back, but she didn't have his. It was her fault, and there was nothing she could do to change it.
The bullet had been aimed at her. It should have been her that got killed. It would have been better that way.
Korsak and Frankie were driving around Boston, looking for Jane.
They had urged for Maura and Angela to go to their respective homes, in case the brunette would show up at either of those places.
In the meantime, both men checked any of their usual haunts for any sign of the detective. The dirty robber, her old apartment, the gym, the batting cages, the bar on 14th street. Even several unlikely places, that Jane used to go to when she was upset as a kid.
They had tried to track her cell phone, but it hadn't pinged. Jane had obviously turned the device off.
Korsak knew that if Jane didn't want to be found, she would make damn sure that she wasn't.
After several hours of futile searching, they reconvened at Maura's home in Beacon Hill.
The doctor was beside herself worrying. Even though her main concern was to find Jane, it didn't mean she had forgotten that today was also the day she had lost her biological father, and with him the answers to her questions. It was an impossible situation. Whether he had thought it was self defense or not, her father had tried to kill her fiancee, and only because of detective Frost's interference was Jane still alive. But at the moment it felt like she might have lost her just the same. If not physically, than definitely emotionally.
She hated Doyle for what he had done, or tried to do. But a part of her mourned the man as well, and she couldn't explain to herself why she felt that way. And on top of that she felt the pain from the loss of detective Frost; Barry, who had become a friend to her as well. She would always be thankful to him for saving Jane's life. But Jane's life wouldn't have been in danger, if it wasn't for Paddy Doyle. The swirling emotions, confusing thoughts, and guilt she felt, were driving her slowly insane.
The only thing that kept her going at the moment, was her need to find Jane. Right now, that was all that mattered.
"Anything?" she asked the older detective when he stepped inside her house.
Korsak didn't have to say anything, the look on his face said it all, "I'm sorry, Maura. We're trying to track her phone, but I don't think she wants to be found."
Maura wiped at the tears that were slowly trickling down her face. "Oh, god. What if something happens to her. What if she never comes back, what if -" a sob wracked through her small frame.
"Doc, Jane can take care of herself, okay. She'll be back, don't worry." Korsak tried to reassure the distraught blonde.
Jane didn't know how long she had been sitting there, on that bench, near the water. The evening had grown dark and cold hours ago, the previously busy area, now completely abandoned.
The detective quickly became aware of her now vulnerable position, so she got up and made her way back to her car.
She opened the door, and sat down in the driver's seat, locking the doors behind her. She put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it. She still didn't know where to go.
What was she supposed to do, go home? See the one person she really didn't want to see right now.
Go to her old apartment? A place that for some reason she'd never gotten rid of yet. They would find her within the hour.
Go to her mother's place? No way she could deal with the overbearing nature of the matriarch of the family today.
Get a motel room? It's not like she would be able to sleep.
Go to a bar? She didn't have the desire or energy to get drunk tonight.
Jane finally just took her hand off the key, and rested her head on the steering wheel. She tightly closed her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Frost. So sorry," she whispered into the night, like a mantra, over and over again.
The next morning, when the sun first arrived on the horizon, Jane finally started her car and drove away.
She was tired and miserable. Not surprisingly she wasn't in the least bit hungry either, even though she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.
The detective stopped at a random gas station and bought herself a cup of coffee. When she sat back down in her car, she finally turned her phone back on.
It buzzed for several long seconds, indicating dozens of missed calls, texts and voice mails. She knew she was in trouble, but she couldn't muster the energy to care.
She didn't even bother to listen to, or read, any of the messages.
Within minutes of turning the device back on, the phone started ringing. She checked the caller I.D., it was Maura; she just let it ring.
Twenty minutes later, she drove up to BPD. She knew her boss would expect her to meet with internal affairs that morning, and she wanted to work off some of her frustration and anger in the gym downstairs, before they would arrive.
She geared up in her gym clothes, and started taking her aggression out on the dummy. Trying not to think about the fact, that only yesterday, she had been doing the exact same thing, when Frost had come down to talk to her.
Jane tried to hit, and kick the thing as hard as she could; not really aware that she was being quietly observed.
"You look like hell Rizzoli," came the voice of the most hated detective in the homicide squad.
"Fuck off, Crowe" she snarled, her eyes warning him to shut his mouth.
"Or what Rizzoli," Crowe taunted, "you don't have the balls to take me on. Maybe you can ask that sexy lady of yours to help you. She got you whipped pretty good after all."
Jane didn't know if Crowe actually had a death wish, or if he really was unaware of what had happened yesterday. On a normal day, Jane would have given the bastard some snarky remark and let it go. But after everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, she just didn't have the strength to walk away.
Instead all that Jane saw was red. The brunette unexpectedly lunged forward and punched detective Crowe in the face, hard. The overweight man stumbled to the ground, flat on his back. Jane put her knee on top of his chest, and came completely unhinged. She hit detective Crowe repeatedly, until she was dragged away by two other officers that had seen, and heard, what happened. Both men were holding her by her arms, but having great difficulty restraining Jane from diving back to hit Crowe some more.
"Let me go," she shouted, trying to break free from their grasp.
"Rizzoli!" Cavanaugh's voice boomed through the gym. It seemed to finally bring the brunette back to her senses.
"Take him to get treated," the Lt. commanded one of the officers, who quickly helped Crowe up and took him out of there, the beat up detective clutching his face, moaning in pain.
Jane watched him leave the room, feeling absolutely no remorse.
"Five minutes, my office, Rizzoli." Cavanaugh's voice brokered no argument.
She'd just had enough time to throw her work clothes back on, and five minutes later, Jane was standing in front of her boss's office.
She felt like hell, and knew that she looked even worse.
She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.
After the detective was called in, she quickly realized that it wasn't going to be just her in there today.
The head of internal affairs was sitting in a chair next to Lt. Cavanaugh. Opposite them was Agent Gabriel Dean. Leaving just one empty chair for the brunette.
"Take a seat, detective Rizzoli." The head of internal affairs looked at her, and a feeling of foreboding crept up Jane's spine. This was not going to be good.
An hour later, Jane left the office. Without her badge or her gun.
After what had happened yesterday, put together with her disappearance overnight, and her beating of detective Crowe that morning, it was decided Jane needed to be put on extended leave.
They were worried about her mental stability at the moment. It really wasn't that uncommon. Most detectives that lost a partner in the line of duty would have been given some sort of time off. But in Jane's case it was the opposite of what she wanted, what she needed was to be able to focus completely on her work. But what she got was too much time to think.
If she had been angry before, she was absolutely raging at the moment. She had to get out of there, now, before she would say or do something that would ruin her career beyond repair.
She stepped on the elevator, ready to leave the building, to go…somewhere; to be anywhere but where she was right now.
Thankfully for Jane, nobody tried to stop her.
The news of what happened with detective Rizzoli and detective Crowe had quickly spread throughout BPD. Korsak and Frankie had heard the news as soon as they stepped into the bullpen. A measure of relief had overcome them, knowing that at least Jane had reappeared.
Now they just had to wait patiently until the brunette was finished with her meeting with Cavanaugh and IA.
Korsak was sitting at his desk, when he saw Agent Dean, walking on crutches, on his way to the elevator,
"Agent Dean?" the older detective motioned the federal agent over.
"Detective Korsak," the smarmy man said, "what can I do for you?"
"You can tell me what the hell you were doing at our undercover job yesterday," Frankie interjected angrily.
Dean looked a little taken aback by the aggression that was coming at him, but recovered quickly, "it's need to know gentlemen."
He tried to walk away, but Korsak blocked his path, "or you can try not being a dick for a change and tell us. You owe us at least that much."
The federal agent briefly considered their request, then motioned to one of the interrogation rooms, expecting them to follow him.
When all three of them were inside, he closed the door, "what I am going to tell you, does not leave the room."
Korsak gave him an imperceptible nod, and Dean started to explain.
He told them how the FBI knew Paddy Doyle was back in town, and they'd been trying to track him down.
They hadn't had much luck, until yesterday, when they finally caught up with him after following Maura. Which had been agent Dean's 'brilliant' idea, using his existing knowledge of the doctor's personal background to his own advantage. "I'm sorry for what happened," he said, "but my priority was to apprehend Doyle, by any means necessary."
Frankie looked like he was about to attack the federal agent; the man absolutely did not care at all for what his actions had cost them. All he cared about was his own mission, which in his mind he had completed successfully.
"I think it's best you leave now, Agent Dean," Korsak warned.
Thankfully for him, the smug man could take a cue, and left the room.
"What an asshole," Frankie was angry.
"He's a fed," the older detective replied, as if that was enough explanation, "lets go back and wait for Jane."
Both of them made their way back into the bullpen, where they were just in time to see Lt. Cavanaugh and the head of IA shake hands, after which the latter disappeared down the hall.
When Lt. Cavanaugh spotted Korsak staring at him, he motioned the detective over to enter his office.
The older detective quickly made his way over, and closed the door behind them.
"Before you hear it from anyone else," Cavanaugh started, "I had to sent Jane home. She's on leave until further notice."
"You put her on leave? Why?" Korsak asked his old friend.
"Vince, I had no choice. She beat Crowe to a pulp," the Lt. sadly shook his head. "IA thinks she's unstable, they wanted to suspend her, but I convinced them to change it to medical leave. At least this way she'll get paid."
"She's not unstable" the older detective raised his voice, "she lost her partner, she's just hurt."
"I know, Vince. But my hands are tied for now."
"Where is she?" Korsak asked.
"I don't know, she left probably about 10 minutes ago."
The older detective realized that because of their chat with Agent Dean, they had missed Jane leaving. And this time the brunette would be in an even worse state of mind than yesterday.
Unlike the day before, Jane had no qualms of finding a bar today. She just wanted to numb the pain and forget her troubles by getting plastered.
Of course she didn't go to the Dirty Robber, she wasn't stupid. They would call someone to get her within no time at all; it was a cop bar after all.
So she entered another local bar she'd been to before. One where she knew she could drink in peace, without anyone giving her a hard time for drinking during the daytime; since it wasn't even noon yet.
The brunette took a seat in the corner, and ordered herself a whiskey. Knowing the hard liquor would do the trick in the least amount of time. After quickly finishing her first drink, she told the bartender to keep 'm coming.
It really didn't take as long as she had expected to start feeling the buzz in her head. She knew she was going to regret her indulgence tomorrow, or even later today, but she just didn't care.
Jane continued chugging down the drinks, one after another. At one point losing count as to how many she'd had.
When the bartender finally cut her off, she took out her wallet and dropped a few bills on the counter.
Jane was smart enough not to get in her car and drive when she was this drunk, so she hailed a cab. She slid into the car, and without thinking she gave the address to the cabby, not even realizing that she had just given the man the location to Maura's house.
"Oh crap," Jane slurred, when they drove up to the home in Beacon Hill.
The brunette knew it was too late now, and she really didn't have much of a choice anyway. She'd have to go here sometime, at the very least to get some things, like clean clothes.
She threw some money at the cab driver, mumbled a thanks and tried to hoist herself out of the car.
It took her a while, but she finally made it to the front door. She was heavily leaning against the wall, thinking of where she had put her keys, when the door opened, revealing a teary eyed, blotchy skinned, blonde woman. Maura had obviously been crying.
"Jane," Maura's voice cracked, her eyes taking in the brunette's appearance. She had to suppress a gasp when she was met with a look from the detective that was so dark, the doctor never thought in a million years that Jane could ever look at her like that.
It was almost physically painful for Maura to see the normally friendly chocolate eyes, usually full of love, reflected back at her with such anger, fury and…hatred.
Jane pushed herself off the wall, and tried to brush by Maura into the house. But in her drunken state her body would not cooperate, and she walked against the door post instead. Letting out a string of curses, she almost toppled over.
Maura put her arms on Jane's shoulders to steady her, and immediately felt the brunette tense up under her touch.
If Jane would have been sober, she would not have let the doctor touch her at all. But since she was having a very difficult time staying upright, she had no choice but to let the doctor help her inside.
When Maura had pretty much dragged Jane into their bedroom, the brunette flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes.
Maura sat down on the bed, next to Jane. She reached for the brunette's hand, feeling the need to reconnect in some way. But it was absolutely the wrong move at the wrong time. Jane jerked her hand away, her eyes flashing open, swirling with negative emotions, and piercing into Maura's.
"I'm so sorry, Jane." Maura cried, "I…I didn't realize. I didn't know."
Jane just stared at the crying blonde for a while. Her mind was only half present at the moment, everything was fuzzy from all the liquor she had ingested. The few conscious thoughts she did have, were dark and brooding. She was overwhelmed by the pain she felt, from the loss of her partner, Frost. From Maura pushing her away after it happened, calling her a killer.
But more than pain, Jane felt so much hate at the moment. For Paddy Doyle, and for agent Dean. Yet the majority of hate was reserved for herself.
Jane opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out, and shortly after she slipped into unconsciousness.
Maura got up from the bed and just stood there for a while, staring at her fiancee.
Never in her life had Maura Isles felt so hurt, alone, and confused, as in that one moment.
When Maura went to bed several hours later, she hesitated getting in. She had no idea what Jane's response would be when she would find her there in the morning.
After debating with herself for several long moments, and hoping for the best, the doctor finally slipped under the covers and turned off the light.
Maura turned around, her back towards the brunette, and closed her eyes. She tried to calm her breathing, forcing her body to relax, but she was having a hard time falling asleep.
On top of everything that had happened these past few days, this was not how she and Jane slept together; they were never this far apart.
Maura was just about to give up, and get up to go to the guest room or the couch, when she felt Jane shifting behind her.
The brunette slid closer on the bed, spooning Maura from behind, one arm wrapped around her slender waist.
Maura knew Jane was still deep asleep, she could tell by her slow and steady breathing. The action of the brunette moving closer, had been completely subconscious. Jane always gravitated towards her when she was asleep. She also knew that if Jane would have been awake at this moment, this would not have happened.
Yet it was just too comfortable to resist, and Maura desperately needed the contact. So she put her hand on top of Jane's, took a deep breath, and finally fell asleep.
When Maura woke up the next morning, Jane was gone. The only evidence that she had been there at all, was the engagement ring that had been left behind on the night stand.
A/N: Thoughts?