Summary: After the shooting at the factory several lives are left in the balance, in more ways than one. Jane and Maura have to face the choices and decisions they have made and suffer the consequences of their actions. Their relationship is fractured and to find their way back into each other's lives, and hearts, there is a lot to overcome.

Pairing: Rizzles. Though considering what happened in 2x15 it will take me awhile to get there. There is a lot to fix but true love always finds a way.

Rating: T - as always.

Disclaimer: Rizzoli & Isles belongs to Tess Gerritsen. The series belongs to TNT and Janet Tamaro. I am just stepping in to fix what was broken as well as to make sure we last until the start of season three. This is just my take on how I want to see things fixed or what could happen.

Timeline spoilers: Season 2 finale. That's what starts all of this. If you haven't seen it and don't want to know, please turn around now. Don't say I didn't warn you!

A/N: Well, it's done. The season 2 finale is behind us and there are so many pieces to put back together that I barely have a clue where to start. As soon as I read what happened, this idea was born and I intend on finishing this into a full length story in the upcoming days and weeks. There are a lot of thing I plan to tie into this. I suppose this can be considered to be my version of what happened after the events of 2x15.

Chapter 1

For some moments in life there are no words.
~David Seltzer

~()~

One half of me is yours, the other half yours
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours
~William Shakespeare

Massachusetts General Hospital
Boston, Massachusetts

Jane Rizzoli stood in the empty hospital corridor. She could have gone home hours ago but for some reason her mind had told her to stay here. Her back rested against the plain white walls and she cradled her head in her scarred hands. A rain of dark curls obscured her from those walking past her. Nobody could see the pain written across her face. Her heart beat slowly in her chest. Every beat was a reminder of the dull ache she felt inside. She was in extreme agony but she had no physical wounds to show for it. But the pain was real and it was raw. Jane Rizzoli was hurting like she had never hurt before.

"Why are you still here, honey?"

Reluctantly Jane lifted her head up from her hands and found her mother standing in front of her. Angela Rizzoli looked worried. Dressed in her winter coat and matching gloves and scarf it looked like she had been outside for hours. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair messed up. Upon seeing Jane's questioning expression, Angela spoke again. "Frankie sent me to look for you."

Jane sighed. Her brother had been at her side for the past few hours. He had been a silent companion who did not speak and allowed her to experience all of her feelings in same way she always did. Alone. He had known she had nothing to say. A faint smile spread across Jane's face. "Thanks, Ma."

Angela looked around. "Where is everyone? Detective Korsak and Frost?"

"They left a few hours ago," Jane replied. The images still lay fresh in her mind. "And Paddy Doyle's still in surgery. Nobody knows if he's going to live or not." The words hurt as they fell from her lips. The doctors were fighting to remove the bullets, one of which Jane herself had fired into the Irishman's body. A nurse had given her a quick update over an hour ago, whilst the surgery was still in progress. There was extensive bleeding and Paddy Doyle was not of an age where a body took kindly to injuries.

"Where's Agent Dean?" Angela asked and observed the sudden flinch across Jane's face. "Frankie said he got shot too."

"They're still operating on him," Jane answered through gritted teeth. The mention of the dark haired FBI Agent sent so many emotions through her that she didn't know where to even start. She rolled her eyes and sank down in a chair. Her hands once again covered her face, as if to hide the pain. But it was clear to see that Jane Rizzoli was broken. Her voice was raw and laced with tears. "How did this happen? I trusted him!"

Angela sat down next to her daughter. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind, Ma," Jane sighed, suddenly realising her mother didn't know that the mobster the doctors were trying to save was Maura's biological father. She couldn't believe her own stupidity. When had she allowed her judgement to become so clouded and how was she ever going to trust her own instincts again. She was a cop. She relied on them. If she didn't have her own gut feelings to tell her what was wrong and right, she had nothing else left. "Let's just say that if he ever makes it off the table, he might find himself back on it in minutes."

There was one person they had not yet spoken about and Jane wasn't sure whether she could bear hearing her best friend's name. Or she used to be her best friend. She had never seen such hatred in anyone's eyes as she had done in Maura's the moment she had knelt down beside her to help Doyle. The pain had been so raw in her voice, so intense. Jane felt herself grow cold when she remembered Maura staring at her. The world had disappeared from underneath her there and then. She had fallen into this black hole and was left on her own to find a way out.

"Where's Maura?" She had to know. She couldn't not know. The pain in her chest intensified as she mentioned the medical examiner's name. Maura wasn't here with her. She didn't know where she was. She had never been apart from her, not like this. This… this felt final.

Angela averted her eyes and stared at the hospital floor. When Jane saw the look in her mother's eyes she sat up and straightened her back. She sensed her mother knew something she wasn't telling her. Her voice was more demanding when she repeated the question. "Ma, where's Maura?"

"She left," Angela answered quietly and without making eye contact. She wasn't sure whether she could stand looking at her daughter's grief stricken face. Her voice trembled as she began telling Jane about Maura. "She arranged for her mother's private jet to pick them up from Logan International Airport an hour ago."

"No," Jane sighed and rested her head against the wall. She had so many questions and she wasn't sure whether she would ever get an answer. She looked at her mother. Dark chocolate coloured eyes were filled with fear and tears. Tears Jane would never have allowed anyone to see but the darkness around her only intensified. Maura was gone. "She left? Where did they go? Did she say anything? Where is she?"

"She said they would be flying to Geneva," Angela said softly. She had seen the medical examiner back at the house a few hours ago. She had been covered in blood and had changed her clothes, leaving the dirty ones on her bedroom floor. There had been nothing she could have done as Maura went about packing several suitcases. She had been quiet but Angela had seen the tears whenever Maura thought she wasn't looking. She sighed as she looked at Jane. Her daughter looked as broken as Maura had done. "Her parents have a home in Switzerland and she wants her mother to recover from her injuries there." She reached into the pocket of her coat and withdrew a simple plain white envelope. "She left this for you."

"She did?"

Jane took the envelope from her mother and held it like it was something fragile. She didn't want to open it but she knew she had to. Her fingers trembled as she hooked them behind the paper and tore the envelope apart. Inside, neatly folded, sat a folded piece of paper. Jane recognised it as a page of Maura's expensive notebook. A quiet sob escaped her throat as she took the paper from the envelope and unfolded it. Maura's neat handwriting appeared as she eased some of the creases out and she began reading.

Jane,

I wasn't going to say goodbye but realised I had to. What you did today broke every promise you ever made to me and you betrayed the trust I had in you. I cannot begin to understand what you were thinking when you fired that bullet. He was never going to hurt me, Jane. And he was never going to hurt you. You were angry because he shot Agent Dean. You placed your own emotions over those of anybody else and you lost your judgement and because of that my father might die. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that. I trusted you, Jane. I protected you but this time you didn't trust me enough to protect you.

Maura

Jane put the letter down and covered her face with her hands. She didn't even stir when her mother placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The tears just came. Unexpectedly harsh and unforgiving. Just like Maura's letter and just like all her own feelings and Jane's body softly shook as she sobbed. Angela's arm slid around her daughter's shoulders and she kissed her messy dark hair. The words of comfort she whispered got lost before they even reached her daughter's ears.

They sat like this for what felt like hours whereas in fact it was mere minutes. A lone figure appeared at the end of the hallway and came closer. Dressed in navy blue and a surgical cap on her head, the female doctor looked like she had walked out of an episode of Grey's Anatomy. She saw the women huddled together and felt a sense of grief and loss, aware of the news she was about to bring them. The sound of her approaching footsteps made Jane looked up. Through her tears she watched the woman approach and her heart sank in her chest when she saw the look in her eyes.

"Jane Rizzoli?" she inquired and Jane nodded, subdued. She sat down at Jane's other side and remorse filled her eyes. She had done this too many times. Patients had died under her hands before but delivering that news to those that were left behind was never easy. She took a deep breath and her words were laced with regret. "I'm afraid Gabriel Dean didn't make it."

Jane swallowed hard in an attempt to get rid of the bile rising in her throat. Her stomach twisted and suddenly she felt dizzy and lightheaded. Her mother's protective arm slipped from her shoulders to her hands, taking them into her own. The knowledge that death had struck numbed her. How had she even dared hope that all parties would come out of this alive?

"The bullet caused a small rupture in his aorta. We tried to stop the bleeding and repair the damage but there was very little we could do. The bleeding was extensive," the doctor explained. Her eyes raked over the detective's broken frame. Jane looked bleak and pale, not unlike any other loved ones she had seen as she shared this kind of news with them. "I'm sorry."

"Jane," Angela said softly and squeezed her daughter's hand. Jane did not respond. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. The tears had strangely dried the moment the doctor told her Dean was dead. She felt nothing. Her throat had become dry and she picked at her fingernails. All she wanted was the one thing she knew she couldn't have.

"Do you know if there is anybody else we need to call?" the doctor asked. Jane quietly shook her head. She didn't know if there was anybody else. In fact, she didn't know anything about Gabriel Dean at all. She knew his name and that was it. She wished she had known more. Maybe than none of this would have happened or, if it had, things could have been different. Unexpectedly she stood up, leaving a stunned Angela and doctor behind. Her steps were brisk and quick and she distanced herself from the other two women quickly.

Angela leapt to her feet before her daughter could reach the door and rushed after her. She grabbed Jane's arm and spun her around. Jane's dark eyes almost immediately found those of her mother and Angela froze when she recognised the pain in her daughter's eyes. Jane looked broken and the tears in her eyes broke her mother's heart. Angela didn't speak and instead enveloped Jane in her arms. Jane rested her head on her mother's shoulder and the tears came once again.

"I'm sorry baby," Angela whispered as she stroked Jane's hair. "I'm so sorry."

Jane couldn't speak. There were no words for the grief she felt. Her tears were not for Gabriel Dean, who now lay dead in an operating room somewhere. Her tears were not for Paddy Doyle, who was still fighting for his life. Her tears were for the friendship that had ended in a split second decision. A decision she knew she would regret for the rest of her life. She grieved for Maura, who had left her. She had made her leave. She had pushed her away. She was gone.

"Detective Rizzoli?"

Jane became aware of the female doctor's voice and she looked up. It was as if with the title 'detective' she suddenly became aware of the badge and gun still sitting on her hip. "Y-Yes?"

"Would you like to say goodbye?"

She hadn't even considered it. She didn't want to see him. She was angry. Seeing him lying dead in a bed wasn't going to change anything about those feelings. Part of her didn't even want to remember him at all. Jane shook her head and firmly gave her answer.

"There is nothing to be said."

With those words she turned on her heels and pushed the doors open. As she stepped out into the cold evening air her lungs eagerly expanded and the refreshing oxygen erased some of the nausea. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, brushing along the gun and badge on her hip. The metal felt cold against her fingers and she looked down at the two things that defined her as a cop. A sense of remorse washed over her as she realised she would have to hand the gun over for inspection. It was the rule after every shooting. Internal Affairs would be involved, and no doubt the FBI would too. After all, one of their own got shot. And died. The thought hit her unexpectedly hard. Gabriel Dean was dead.

"I'll drive you home," Angela said as she appeared at her daughter's side. She took her arm. "Come on."

"Can you take me to Maura's instead, Ma?" Jane stopped dead in her tracks and looked at her mother. Angela questioningly looked up to her daughter. Jane's eyes swam with tears. She didn't want to go back to her empty apartment. Not tonight. She wanted to be at the one place where it would at least feel, for a little while, like nothing had changed. Like the world had not just disappeared from under her feet and she had not just lost everything that mattered most to her. Her bottom lip quivered. A soft, almost begging whisper followed. "Please, Ma?"

Angela nodded. "Of course baby."

"Thanks."

They drove home in silence. Jane stared out of the car window, gazing out at the world outside. In the night Boston looked beautiful. Thousands of lights were painted across a midnight sky. This city was her home. She had been born and raised here and yet after today it no longer felt as if she belonged. When her mother drove into Maura's street Jane felt her chest tighten and as they pulled up on the drive she half and half expected to see lights flicker behind the windows but her heart sank when she saw that Maura's home was shrouded in darkness. The pain only grew stronger when Angela parked her car behind Maura's blue Prius. Jane remembered driving Maura to work early that same day. But now she was gone.

Angela unlocked the front door and switched on the lights. Maura's kitchen bathed in its familiar yellow light and Jane followed her mother inside. As she closed the front door behind her she was painfully confronted by the silence that surrounded them. Angela turned around as she reached the kitchen and watched her daughter stand by the door. Jane looked lost and confused and a sad sigh escaped the older woman's throat.

"You need to eat something," Angela eventually decided and opened the fridge to fix her daughter some food. Jane just shook her head and walked through the kitchen and the living room towards Maura's bedroom. The door was half ajar and she pushed it open, revealing the room behind it. There, on the floor, lay her best friend's bloodied clothes. Jane hesitated in the door way for a second, confronted by the sight of Maura's pain and desperation. But then she crossed the room and threw herself onto her best friend's bed. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the sheets and Jane closed her eyes.

At least for a few seconds in her imagination she could pretend Maura was still here. With her eyes closed she wouldn't have to face the world for the mess it was; the mess she had made it become. Lying on her best friend's bed, surrounded by her faint scent, Jane Rizzoli didn't feel alone.