This was a day you had always been both expecting and yet finding impossible to imagine. Jane was a hero. There were countless times in which Jane had bravely thrown herself in front of a bullet or a mad man, a bomb or a car, just to save someone else's life; lives she seemed to hold in higher regard than her own. After her child had been born, Jane had changed. She was still the brave, brash, bold detective she had always been, but caution and care seemed to echo faintly like the whispers off of cave walls when she approached her work and her life now; it wasn't just caution where she was concerned, but also where Maura herself was concerned.

Maura had always been Jane's village, but over time Jane had grown to see Maura as far more than one of the several villagers that aided in the gestation, birth, and raising of her daughter. Maura had become not just another mother, but the other mother. Where there was Jane and her daughter, there was Maura. Maura picked their girl up from school; saw her first steps, spent Christmases with them, chased snowflakes in the winter and lightning bugs in the summer with the girl who was now seven and every bit the spitting image of her birth mother. Along the way and throughout the years, Maura had become everything to the little lady that Jane was herself, and it had all started years ago with one conversation about what would happen to the unborn child still growing in Jane's womb should something happen to the overconfident and overly courageous detective.

Nonetheless, today was never supposed to have happened.

Never.

Not this way, and not now; not before her child was even grown.

Maura sat on the edge of the bath tub in her Beacon Hill home, a white and fluffy towel wrapped around the still toned and curvy body of the medical examiner. Her hair was turning more silver, but only a few strands seemed to show themselves now and then, weaving through her hair like the yarn in a tapestry, telling the story of a woman who had lived thus far an ever growing and changing life. Her freckles were more prominent and her hazel eyes had more of an almost matte appearance to them now, the green rim in them more of a faded teal than the piercing emerald it had been long ago. But today there was no light in her eyes, no green flecked throughout that showed mirth or light brown around her pupils that shone warmly with comfort and content, today they had steel, cold shade to them; it was the same shade they had been for the past week and a half.

She had identified the body so Angela wouldn't have to.

She had taken home Jane's daughter and explained to her as gently as possible what was happening, how her mommy wouldn't be coming home today.

She had stayed up for the past three days, running on cups of coffee that were so strong even Jane would have turned them down and the pure grief alone.

She had spent her nights fighting off demons she couldn't see that stalked behind the eyelids of a child.

She had cried herself to sleep at three am this morning, clinging to a pillow that still smelled like Jane.

She had taken the pristine and decorated uniform to the funeral home.

She had tried to write a eulogy.

She had fought the urge to overdose on sleeping pills just to leave consciousness behind long enough to feel something other than hurt, the only thing keeping her from doing so the equally as deep pain in the dark, now cold eyes of Jane's baby girl; of her baby girl.

She sniffled once, a silent track of tears slowly running down her face, steam from her shower long gone and only a biting chill sinking into Maura's bones. Her hair was up in a wet bun, her makeup and hair products strewn across the counter, Jane's shirt hanging on a hook beside the shower, the article of clothing Maura had slept in the night before. She gripped the edge of the tub with her hands, her heart beat almost nonexistent where it faintly beat a slow rhythm in her chest. She stared vacantly at the floor, her eyes fixated on the groove between tiles, the grainy details becoming clearer the longer she stared.

She needed to get ready so she could help Luciana get ready.

Maura smiled to herself softly, remembering when Jane had finally decided on that name.

"Jane, no. You are not naming her after an allergy pill!"

"Allegra is a beautiful name!" Jane whined. "What's wrong with that?"

Maura arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Okay, fine, what about," Jane had paused, index finger tapping her chin as she scrolled down the list.

Maura watched the lights from the computer reflect in Jane's coal colored eyes and smiled softly. This woman had always been beautiful to the doctor, but now, at seven months along and pregnancy glow all about her, Jane seemed to be the embodiment of beauty. It wasn't the stereotypical pregnancy glow that did it; it was the glow that emanated from inside of Jane and outward. Her personality had become more warm, her rough edges softer and her closely guarded heart slightly more vulnerable. The world wasn't an entirely evil place anymore to Jane. There were bright, warm areas every once in a while.

"What about," Jane stopped and smiled, biting the edge of her lip as she blushed, avoiding meeting Maura's eyes, "Luciana? We can call her Luci or Luc for short."

Maura smiled, "See? That's much better! What does it mean?"

Jane shrugged. "I don't know. Shouldn't you?"

Maura grabbed the Mac, turning it so she could read the screen, her heart warming even more so when she read off the meaning aloud.

"'Feminine form of the Italian 'Luciano,' meaning light.' I love it," Maura said softly. "Why that one, if I may ask?"

Jane shrugged, picking at the robe she wore. "She's the light of my life, the bright spot in everything that's happened to me. She's my light."

Maura's smile grew. "It's perfect." She let a comfortable pause linger before she scooted her stool closer, typing on the keyboard. "Now a middle name."

"What? Why?" Jane whined. "I mean, look at our middle names! Clementine and Dor-"

Maura glared at Jane, pointing a finger. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Dor-o-the-a," Jane finished, drawing it out into more syllables than necessary.

Maura continued to glare before she went back to typing, simply threatening, "I'll just change her name on the birth certificate while you're asleep."

"You wouldn't!"

Maura smirked. "Or would I?"

Jane raised an eyebrow, using her index finger to pull on the V in Maura's shirt to expose the freckled skin of Maura's chest. "Mm, Maur? Hives."

Maura smacked Jane's hand away, laughing as she did so. "I don't have any. Must mean I'm telling the truth."

Jane rolled her eyes as she watched Maura scroll, ignoring the way Maura fought to keep from scratching the now appearing marks on her chest as they crept up her neck.

Tears pricked Maura's eyes again as she thought about the memory, the realization sinking in for the millionth time just how much of a part of Luci's life she had always been. Jane had insisted that if the baby have a middle name it be of Irish decent, specifically for Maura. Maura had searched for weeks before she finally came up with the name she wanted. She laughed softly to herself as she pictured Jane sitting on the couch, feet propped up and eyes glued to a Bruins game, her hand resting on her now eight months along belly.

"I found a name," Maura announced as she walked into the living room, a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. She gracefully sat down next to Jane, curling up with her feet beside herself and the bowl of popcorn between herself and Jane.

"We already have names, Maur," Jane joked, reaching into the popcorn bowl.

Maura rolled her eyes and threw a piece of popcorn at Jane. "Not for us, Detective Smartypants."

"Hey! Throwing food is so rude, Doctor Etiqutte."

"Do you want to hear it or not?"

Jane shrugged, "Sure. Fire away."

"For her middle name, Aideen."

Jane smirked. "Is that even an actual name?"

Maura rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is. It's Irish. It's from an Irish legend. Aideen was so in love with her lover that when he fell in battle she died of a broken heart. It's formed like the name Aidan from the root 'aed' meaning fire."

Jane raised an eyebrow, looking at Maura. "That's only morbidly depressing."

Maura shrugged and stared at the screen, continuing to feign care about the game that was on.

"I like the legend. It has meaning to me."

"How? You haven't died of a broken heart, which, may I remind you, you tell me all the time is impossible."

"There's actually an interesting case in which-"

"Nuh uh. No. What's the real reason you love that name so much?"

Maura fell silent, unsure of what she should say.

"In the legend she dies of a broken heart from losing someone she loved, someone she couldn't live without," Maura repeated quietly. "If something happened to, a certain individual in my life, a certain person that I love and know I cannot possibly see my life without," Maura swallowed around the knot that had formed in her throat, "I feel like I would do the same as Aideen. So would Luciana." Maura felt the color rise in her face and retracted her hand from the popcorn bowl, placing both of them on her lap and turning to look at Jane. "Neither she nor I would be able to live without you. At least not easily, and not without feeling it every day of our lives."

Jane looked at Maura with a sheen of tears in her eyes before she smiled and looked back at the TV.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I like it. Luciana Aideen Rizzoli." There was a brief pause before Jane added, trying to lighten the mood, "besides, it's weird and old fashioned. It continues the tradition of unwanted and awkward middle names."

Maura laughed quietly, throwing popcorn at Jane.

A small knock on the bathroom door is what pulled Maura reluctantly from her memories, fresh tears on her face and a pained tremble in her body. She wiped her eyes and stood, crossing the large room to the door and taking a deep breath before twisting the knob and opening it. Luciana stood just on the other side, her eyes red and puffy from crying and her hair tangled and wild from having just woken up. She was holding a pink bear that had the head and arms of a bear and in place of its body was a square blanket. It had been a gift for Luci when she was born from both Jane and Maura. The bear had a pink bow tie and a smile, the blanket reading "sleepy head Luci." Her nightgown was sliding off one shoulder, the purple fleece material stopping just under her knees, a picture of a pony on the front.

"Mommy Maura, I had a bad dream," the little girl murmured, her lower lip quivering as she stood in front of the medical examiner. "I can't sleep anymore."

Maura smiled softly, the corners of her mouth fighting to not form a frown giving her face a sad, pained expression under the gilded smile.

"Come here baby, give me a hug," Maura told the girl, opening her arms and squatting down so she was on her knees.

She held the little girl tightly, wrapping her arms around the small, warm body, the little girls face buried in Maura's neck. As Maura held Luciana she felt warm tears fall onto her skin, little sniffles quietly echoing through the otherwise quiet room. Maura couldn't even begin to imagine how Luci felt right now. Losing a parent as an adult was hard enough, but to lose a parent as a child? Maura wanted nothing more than to fix everything, to give this little girl her mother back, but she couldn't.

"It's going to be okay," Maura murmured quietly. "I know it doesn't feel like it now. I know you're scared and upset and hurt; but I'm going to be here for you. Always."

"Momma says that," Luci told Maura, her voice a small quiver, "and now she isn't here anymore."

Maura felt her throat clench shut and bit her lip. She pulled away, holding Luci out arm's length from her body, her hands on Luci's shoulders.

"I will never, ever leave you," Maura told her daughter. "Luciana Aideen Isles, you are everything to me. Absolutely everything. Just like your mother is the entire world to me, you are the moon and the stars," she said, her own voice shaking. "I love your mother. I will always love your mother every day for the rest of my life. And I love you. I love you more than you can possibly imagine, Luci, and no matter what happens, I will always be here for you and with you. I will never leave you. Ever. Okay?"

Luci nodded, a small "okay" squeaking out as she moved in and hugged Maura again. The embrace lingered, the two finding solace and comfort in the small gesture and the quiet early morning. When Luci stepped back she looked up at Maura and could see what her momma had called bags under Maura's eyes. She smiled softly as she looked at Maura, obviously remembering something.

"What is it, baby girl?" Maura asked softly, smiling slightly as she ran a thumb under Luci's eye, wiping away a tear.

"Momma says you look prettiest first thing in the mornin'" Luci told her, her smile growing. "She says it's her favoritest time of the day, 'cause you don't wear no makeup, and you glow. I think momma is right."

Maura almost sobbed, a fresh wave of tears trying to fall as Luci's words hit her square in the chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

"When did she say that?" Maura croaked, swallowing thickly.

"One mornin' when you was makin' breakfast. She said she loves Saturdays 'cause you always get up and makes us eggs and bunny pancakes like Nonna does," Luci told Maura. "She was layin' in bed with me and was tellin' me 'bout how she couldn't wait to ask you somethin'."

"What was she going to ask me?" Maura asked softly.

Luci shrugged. "I dunno. But it must've been impor'ant because she was real nervous."

Maura nodded and leaned forward, kissing Luci's forehead.

"Well I think you're always beautiful," Maura told her softly. "You look just like your momma." She smiled softly and stood up, running her fingers through Luci's hair. "Go get your stuff ready so you can get cleaned up, okay?"

Luci nodded and turned around, the sound of her feet falling lightly on the floor echoing in Maura's bedroom. She stood there a moment, gathering herself before she turned and pushed the door closed, leaving only a small crack. She walked to the bathroom counter, looking at herself in the mirror once more before she took her hair down and began to brush it out. As she ran the brush and her fingers through her hair she zoned out, her mind traveling to many a morning spent rushing to get ready, swatting Jane's hands away from her towel and laughing as Jane tried everything she could to talk Maura back into bed.

Jane and Maura had begun dating six months after Luciana was born. For nine months Maura had stood by Jane's side, taking care of her and protecting her, coming up with baby names and plans and designs for the nursery. At that point Jane had practically moved in to Maura's house, a nursery there in the guest room. Jane spent more time at Maura's house than she did her apartment, and after a while Angela had begun spending nights at Jane's place for the sake of it still being worth the payments. When Luci was around six months old, Jane had walked into the nursery one morning to see Maura standing there in her robe, Luci on her hip as she bounced slightly, talking in a soft, happy tone to the baby girl.

Jane stopped walking, her heart skipping a beat at the sight. She leaned against the door frame, watching Maura, smiling. Ever since she had gotten pregnant Maura had been right there, never leaving her side, not really. There had been the one or two love interests, but those hadn't lasted very long, each time finding Maura sitting at home with Jane, watching a movie or a game, relaxing as they talked about everything from the baby to work. Jane had found it increasingly difficult over time to act like she didn't love Maura. The cold, hard truth was that she had loved this woman for longer than she could remember, and this had only proved to make things that much more difficult to keep those feelings contained.

"Good morning," she rasped, walking into the room.

Maura turned to face her and smiled, Luci still sitting on her hip. "Good morning, Detective."

"How're my two favorite ladies today?" she asked, grinning as she walked up and put an arm around Maura's shoulder.

"We're doing wonderful," Maura gushed, her eyes glued to Luci. "She's been up for about an hour. She's been changed and fed."

"Maur you could've woken me up."

"I know," Maura told her. "I wanted to do this. Besides, you needed to sleep."

"Mm, well, thank you," Jane said, kissing Maura's cheek.

The blonde blushed, looking at Jane and smiling widely.

Jane had left to go get ready, Maura doing the same as Angela came in to watch Luci, going straight into grandma mode, playing peekaboo and covering the tiny face with kisses. Jane had watched Maura get ready, her eyes traveling over the woman's frame, seeing how she furrowed her brow when putting her hair up for today's updo and how she focused on her eyeliner, determined to make it perfect. She loved the little quirks that were all Maura, how she had to put on her right shoe before her left or her skirt on before her shirt. When Maura was done getting dressed and was standing in the full length mirror, Jane walked up behind her, smiling softly.

"You look beautiful," she rasped, watching Maura brush out imaginary wrinkles.

"Thank you," the doctor said quietly. "You look rather dashing yourself."

Jane blushed slightly, biting her lip.

"I'm going to do something, and I need you to not freak out. Okay?"

Maura swallowed nervously, biting the edge of her lip and nodding. Jane stepped forward, her front against Maura's back, and wrapped her arms around Maura's waist. She pulled Maura tightly against her and leaned down, kissing the crook of her neck softly, her lips lingering there, her eyes closed as she relished in the feeling of Maura against her. She nuzzled Maura's neck softly, her hands splayed out over Maura's stomach. Maura closed her eyes, leaning back into Jane, the moment seeming too surreal, the blonde afraid she would wake up at any moment. When Jane didn't move Maura opened her eyes to see Jane staring at her, dark eyes making her their sole focus. Maura turned slightly, craning her head back, and Jane leaned forward, managing to meet Maura's lips.

The kiss was soft and lingering, a moment within a life. There were no heavenly choirs, no sudden realizations; there was no sudden primal need to tear Jane's clothes off or fireworks. This kiss, this first kiss, was just like any other first kiss happening at that exact moment around the world, but for the two standing there, sharing this minuscule second, it was everything. The silence lingered around them, echoing in Maura's ears with a ringing sound, a small blush across her cheeks. For Jane, she could feel her own arms and hands shaking from their place around Maura's waist, the tremble faint and noticeable only to herself. The same piercing, yet faint ringing noise seemed to echo in her own ears, and the only other sounds were the echoes from downstairs, Angela cooking breakfast and the soft babbles of Luciana. This one moment, this unspectacular moment, was everything but ordinary for them, yet around them the world kept spinning, moving forward. To them, especially to Maura, none of that mattered. The rest of the world was irrelevant in these short, light minutes surrounding them; they were at the center of it.

When Jane pulled away she kissed Maura's temple before returning her lips to their place on the crook of Maura's neck. Maura hummed softly, smiling at the reflection she saw in the full length mirror. She had waited a very long time for this moment, and now that it had come and passed, she could feel the change in the air. It was palpable, like the warmth from the sun as it shone thousands of miles away; it was like being in the cold shadow of the moon on a crisp fall night, the golden glow of a street light shining over herself and Jane. This wasn't the explosive and time stopping moment she had heard about in fairy tales; it was better.

"I've been thinking," Jane mumbled against warm skin.

"That could be dangerous," Maura quipped, giggling softly as she felt Jane scoff.

"Usually, yes it is, but I don't think it's too dangerous this time."

"And what have you been thinking?"

"That I love you," Jane answered softly, "And that I would like to take you out."

Maura's mouth hung open slightly.

"What?"

"You've done a lot for me," Jane told her softly, standing straight and keeping her arms around Maura. "I feel like after all we've been through, I should realize that it's far past time."

"For?"

"For this to go somewhere," Jane told her. "This has always been going somewhere, and this, with Luci and everything, shows me that I need you, Maur," she said softly. "I need you in my life. I love you."

Maura placed her hands over Jane's, sliding her fingers in the spaces between Jane's own long fingers, and smiled, meeting Jane's eyes in the mirror.

"I think I would love to go to dinner with you, Ms. Rizzoli."

"Great," Jane said, smiling widely. "Tell me when and where, and we'll go."

And just like that, Jane and Maura had become Jane AND Maura, together. Over the next six months they had become more established in their relationship, more comfortable, and after six months of dating, Jane and Maura both realized just how easy this was. It felt like they had always been this way, but now Jane could kiss Maura whenever she wanted. She could run her hands over pale skin at night when they slept together. She could sneak into Maura's morning shower, if not to do anything but hold the doctor; and Maura found that she felt the same. Being with Jane was as easy as breathing. It was an innate sense that felt more natural than anything she had ever experienced. Dating Jane was like being friends with her, except now she could indulge in all of the more primal and carnal of her desires, as well as the more intimate and private moments. She loved being with Jane in every way possibly, and she loved that Jane loved being with her, too.

Standing in her bathroom now it was hard to believe that she and Jane had been together for seven years. Seven long, amazing, chaotic years. Seven years of being a mother to a beautiful little girl, to living with the love of her life. Seven years of imperfectly chaotic perfection that made her so happy she felt like she could bust. Until just over a week ago, when all of that had been taken from her.

"Where is she?!" she screamed. "Tell me where she is!"

"Doctor Isles!" Korsak called out in the middle of the chaos of the hospital. "Doctor Isles, she's here, but she's-"

"She's what?" Maura asked harshly. "She's what, Vince? Tell me!"

"She's hurt, Maura," Vince told her. "She's hurt real bad."

"What do you mean she's hurt? What happened to her?" Maura screamed.

"She was leaving, she was heading to her car, and all I know is someone attacked her in the alley."

"She doesn't park in the alley! She parks in the same damn spot she has for the past decade!"

"I know, which is why we don't understand why she went down there."

"What did they do to her?"

"She was shot."

"How many times?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know anything, Vince, which will tell me whether or not my wife is dead?"

Vince looked at Maura, his jaw clenched.

"She's in surgery."

Maura turned for the elevators, her footsteps quickly carrying her to the steel doors. She pressed the button, going over the map of Mass. Gen. in her head, trying to figure out where Jane would be. She stepped inside, cutting a cold glare to Korsak as he stepped in beside her, reaching over and pressing the button for the floor. Maura looked at it and her jaw clenched. She was infuriated by how little she knew and how much Korsak seemed to be withholding from her. As the elevator reached the floor she stepped out into the hallway, navigating with ease until she reached the station desk. Nurses and surgeons scrambling around and heading in and out of automated swinging doors.

"Excuse me, I need-"

A doctor in an OR cap looked up at her. "Family is supposed to wait out there." The doctor left.

Maura kept trying to get someone's attention but to no avail. Even Korsak, tried, but no one seemed willing to stop and give them any information what so ever on Jane.

"Excuse me!" Maura yelled, getting the attention of quite a few people. "My name is Maura Isles and-"

"Ma'am, I have to ask you to-"

Maura's eyes cut like daggers to the tall man standing in front of her. "I am the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts AND a donor to this hospital, doctor. Now either you will tell me what I need to know or I will have you and countless others reported for failure to notify the next of kin of a shooting victim that was brought into this hospital. Now, I better get some goddamn answers, and I better get them right now." Her chest heaved and her hands shook, her rage making her see red. "Someone tell me where the hell my wife is so that I can tell her mother and so that this Detective, who's investigation you are currently impeding, can do his job and find the son of a bitch who shot the mother of a child and decorated detective lying on one of these tables."

The surgeon held a vicious glare with Maura before he took a breath, backing down.

"What's her name?"

"Boston Homicide Detective Jane Isles, badge number Victor 825. Height is 69" and weight is roughly-"

"She's currently in surgery. She's actually been in for around twenty minutes."

"How bad is it?"

"She was shot multiple times; her body has lost a lot of blood. She was going into cardiac arrest when she got here."

"How many gunshot wounds were there exactly?"

"We aren't sure."

"What kind of gun?"

"We can't be sure."

"What are her chances?"

The surgeon remained silent.

"What are her chances?" Maura yelled.

"Doctor Isles, I need you to go sit down and let me do my job."

With that he left, leaving a fuming and hurt Maura standing next to Korsak, the flurry of people still going as their worlds stood still. They were in the waiting room an hour. Korsak paced the floor, his eyes darting over to Maura every so often, the doctor sitting stoic, her elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. She looked very much unlike herself. She had come dressed in a pair of old shorts and an old Zepplin t-shirt. A pair of low top converse was on her feet and her hair was in a messy bun. The Doctor Isles in front of him had obviously been expecting to spend today in a very different manner, not sitting in the hospital waiting room, praying or meditating, hoping that Jane made it through.

A surgeon came out, still dressed so clearly just now showing himself from the OR. It was the same surgeon Maura had almost took the head off of earlier in the hall. He had a grim look on his face and his eyes held sympathy. Korsak already knew where this was going, but Maura had yet to look up, her head still cradled in her hands as she stared at the floor.

"Mrs. Isles?"

Maura looked up. "Yes? How is she?" She stood and approached the man, her hazel eyes dull and puffy.

"Jane came in to the ER with multiple gunshot wounds. There were five total; three were to her chest and the front of her body, two were in her back."

"She was shot once she was on the ground?"

"Yes. Twice."

"Is she okay? What's next?"

The surgeon clenched his jaw, looking Maura in the eye as he gave her the news she had dreaded to hear.

"Jane didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Maura felt her heart drop and all of the air rush out of her lungs. She felt light headed and her knees began to buckle, Korsak reaching out and catching her.

"Wha- What? No. No, you're wrong. She.. She's been through worse. She can ..She's fine. She has to be fine."

"Her lung collapsed and she lost too much blood. Her BP dropped and, just.. Between the bullet in her lung, the blood loss, and the artery the one in her chest nicked, Mrs. Isles, she wasn't strong enough to come back from this. I'm sorry."

"I want to see her."

"Mrs. Isles-"

"I want to see her!" Maura screamed. "I want to see her right now. I want her body sent to the Chief Medical Examiner's office, where I myself will do the autopsy," she turned towards Korsak, "And don't you DARE tell me I can't."

Maura snapped back to reality, her hair dryer still running on the counter. She blinked a few times and reached down to turn it off, wrapping the cord and putting it back in its proper place. She plugged in her curling iron and looked in the mirror at herself, beginning to apply her make up. She put on her eye shadow, staying with neutral colors, soft browns and things Jane had always liked. She applied her eyeliner, keeping it simple with black on both her upper and lower lid, and applied her mascara. She thought about that first day, so long ago, when Jane had asked her to dinner, and smiled. She unplugged the curling iron, letting it sit to cool, and instead got what she needed to put her hair in a French twist updo. After she had finished everything she put up her curling iron and hair sprays, her brushes and utensils, and walked into her bedroom.

Lying on her bed was her dress. It was black with a lace collar and long lace black sleeves, the intricate design running down Maura's arms and up her throat. It was modest, no cleavage on display, and stopped right at her knees. She stepped into a simple pair of black Louboutin's, the most basic ones she had, a pair of stilettoes. She walked up to her dresser and found the hair pin she wanted, a clip with three black roses on it, and slid it into place in her hair. She looked at herself in the full body mirror and was reminded of how many times she had done this when getting ready for a date with Jane, their romance still very much alive after being married for six years.

To know she was doing this for her wife's funeral? It was sickening. She blinked away tears as she sighed and left her bedroom, going to Luci's room. She found the little girl had gotten her dress out along with her shoes and her tights. Her hair bows that she had chosen were sitting on the bed along with her brush and detangler spray. Luci herself was sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around a teddy bear from Jane. Her big brown eyes were puffy and her little fingers played with the bear's bow tie.

"Luci? Baby girl, we have to get you ready."

"I don't wanna," she said quietly. "Maybe if we don't go to the funeral, she'll wake up."

Maura sat on the edge of the bed, her heart breaking for her daughter.

"Baby, I know it hurts, it hurts right here, doesn't it?" she asked softy, her hand over Luci's heart.

The little girl nodded.

"It hurts me there, too. But you know what else is there?" Luci looked at and met Maura's hazel eyes. "All the love I have for your mommy, and all the love she as for me." The little girl stared at Maura, a tear falling down her cheek. "Mommy will always love you, and she'll always be right there in your heart."

Luci nodded, crawling forward and into Maura's lap. Maura held Luci, rubbing her back, her lips pressed to Luci's head. If anyone had told Maura eight years ago she would be a mother to her best friend's child, she would have laughed in their face; but now this felt natural, it was second nature. She lived for this little girl just as Jane did. She caught herself and tightened her hold on Luci; had, just as Jane had.

"Let's get ready, okay?" she told Luci quietly.

The little girl nodded. She helped Luci change out of her nightgown and got a wash cloth, wiping down the little girls arms and chest, her face, knowing she had broken out in a sweat from her nightmares. Luci had taken a bubble bath the night before, but Maura just wanted to make this seem as normal for Luci as possible, using the lavender soap she always used because it was calming, the smell familiar and a memory of Jane.

Maura helped Luci into her white tights, making sure they didn't get a run or tear in them. Next was the dress, the little black one with white eyelet detailing on the edge of the skirt and a white bow on the back. Her little buckle shoes came next, black flats that were shiny and new, never worn before now. She looked at Luci and smiled sadly, kissing the little girls forehead.

"You look beautiful. Just like your momma."

Luci smiled a small smile, wringing the pink bear she had slept with and entered Maura's room with that morning in her hands.

"Let's fix your hair, okay baby?"'

"I don't wanna put it up," Luci said softly. "I want it down with my curls, like momma always wears-" she stopped, her lower lip quivering.

Maura nodded. "Okay baby. I'll just brush it out then."

Maura turned Luci around, sitting behind her on the bed. She sprayed the apple scented detangler in the long, thick curls and began to brush, smiling as she watched the once frizzy hair become silky and smooth, ebony locks curling in perfect, yet still wild, spiral curls. When she was done she set the brush down, the only addition to Luci's hair a simple black headband with a white bow on it. She kissed the tip of Luci's nose and smiled.

"All done."

"Do we leave now?"

"Yeah baby, we have to leave now."

"I'm scared," Luci whispered softly. "I don't wanna see all of momma's friends. I wanna just have momma back."

Maura nodded. "I know. Me too, babygirl. But momma's friends love us, okay? And even though momma isn't here anymore, they still love us very much."

Luci nodded and grabbed Maura's hand as the doctor stood, making her way out of the little girl's bedroom and down the stairs. When they reached the bottom Maura stopped, frozen. She knew that around the corner would be Angela and Frank, Tommy and Frankie, Korsak and Cavanaugh, all of Jane's family, her family, and suddenly she felt ice in her veins. She couldn't do this. She couldn't get through this. She needed Jane. The anxiety that had fled from her long ago came barreling back, settling deep inside of her. Her hands shook and her breathing became shallow, her heart hammering in her chest.

A small tug on her left arm drew her attention away from her oncoming panic attack.

"You can do this, mommy," Luci told her quietly. "I'm scared, too. But we still have each other, right mommy?"

Maura almost choked on tears as she nodded, answering with a soft, "Right, babygirl." She was stunned by Luci's words, the wisdom that of someone far beyond her seven years of age.

They made their way hand in hand into the living room, Luciana seeing Angela and immediately running straight for her. She hugged her Nonna tight, the older woman picking up her granddaughter as the little girl wrapped her arms around Angela's neck. Maura smiled at Angela, seeing that the Rizzoli matriarch wasn't doing much better than anyone else in the room. Tommy and Frankie walked up to Maura, Tommy pulling Maura into a hug, feeling Maura wrap her arms around his waist as she relaxed in his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Maura," he told her quietly. "But we all still love you. You're still our sister, okay?"

Maura nodded, smiling at him as he released her, only to be enveloped in a hug by Frankie. He rubbed her back, his hold tightening.

"I know you miss her, but you're still one of us, okay?"

"I know," Maura told him softly. "I just… I want her back, Frankie," she forced out, her voice going hoarse. "I miss her so much."

Angela watched from a distance as Maura began to break down, and her heart broke just that much more. She passed Luci to Korsak, watching the Sargent smile as he played with the miniature Jane Rizzoli in his arms. Angela quickly made her way to Maura, pulling the woman into a tight embrace, her arms warm and her grip strong. She rubbed Maura's back, feeling the way Maura clung to her.

"I can't sleep anymore, Angela," Maura told her. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't…function. If it weren't for Luciana, I don't think-"

"No," Angela scolded. "Don't you dare say it, Maura Isles." She pulled back, holding Maura out arm's length, just as Maura had done to Luci earlier that morning. "Jane loved you with her whole heart. She still loves you. She entrusted you with the care of her daughter long before she even asked you on a first date. That little girl needs you, and you need her. Don't leave her alone, Maura."

Maura nodded, wiping her eyes with her fingertips, knowing Angela was right.

Korsak appeared next to them, Luci still in his arms, his face solemn. "The car service is here."

They all made their way towards the door, the limo from the funeral home for Maura, Luciana, Angela, Frank, Tommy, and Frankie. The officers got into their cars, lights on but sirens off, the flashing lights eerie even though it was already after nine in the morning. Maura reached the front door, lingering as she looked back into her house. Her chest felt tight and her heart heavy as she realized she would never see Jane in her house again. She bit her lip as she pulled the door closed behind herself, stepping down her steps towards the sidewalk. As she approached the limo she heard a voice say her name and turned around, positive she had to have been mistaken.

"Maura, wait," Constance called as she reached the Doctor. "Your father and I had to be here for you. We are so sorry-" That was as far as she got before Maura wrapped her in a hug, clinging to her mother for dear life.

"Thank you," Maura whispered hoarsely. "Thank you so much for coming."

"Of course we would be here, darling," Constance told her quietly.

Richard Isles approached, his hand resting on Constance's back, his other resting on Maura's shoulder as she pulled away from her mother's embrace.

Richard Isles was a bit taller than Constance, his hair now pure grey and his face friendly. He donned a black suit and a black tie, his demeanor that of a father and not the powerful, wealthy man he had become over time. He opened his arms and hugged his daughter, closing his eyes and remembering a time when she had been a little girl, running into his arms whenever something bad had happened. He hugged her tightly for a moment before letting her go, smiling softly at her, his eyes full of sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, babygirl," he offered weakly. "I wish I could fix this."

Maura nodded, "Me too."

"We will meet you at the funeral home," Constance told Maura.

"No, please, ride with us," Angela's voice interrupted as she exited the car. "You're Maura's parents. You are a part of this family and should be in here, too."

Constance smiled softly, thanking Angela. After careful rearranging of the seating order, everyone was in and the car began to creep forward, the procession moving slowly throughout Boston's streets. Maura held Luci in her lap, her arms locked tightly around her small waist. The little girl's turned in Maura's lap and looked out the back glass, the long line of flashing blue and red lights shining off of the windows of buildings. Maura looked forward, watching cars part on the street like the Red Sea. The procession of officers told the public that this was in honor of one of Boston's finest that had fallen, and while Jane had not died in duty, she was a decorated detective and a hero to this city.

As the line of cars arrived and everyone began making their way into the funeral home a thick, heavy feeling of loss fell over everyone in attendance. The feeling seemed to weigh down the air like summer time humidity, the feeling seeping into their clothes and sticking to their skin; it made breathing difficult as it seemed to slither through Maura's respiratory system, making the tightness in her chest that much worse.

She watched as everyone mingled and greeted, speaking quietly. She waited, watching as everyone began to make their way to their seats, the elected priest, the one who had married Jane and Maura, standing at the front of the church. When everyone was seated and the family made their way in, the priest began.

"Today, we have gathered here to remember one of Boston's finest. I say that in the truest sense of the term. Jane Clementine Isles was indeed one of Boston's finest. She was one of its finest officers, detectives, parents, spouses, and citizens. She, from a young age, had a heart that was big enough to handle whatever came her way, and cared for all others before herself. Six years ago I was lucky enough to be asked to wed Mrs. Isles to her wife of six years, Maura. I can still remember the day that Jane came to me in private, asking me if I would be willing to do this for her. I told her I was honored. Today, I am both saddened and honored to lead us all through the grieving of her loss; of the tribute to her memory."

Maura stared straight forward, feeling uneasy as she listened to the man continue. For a woman who had never even entertained the validity of God, and who still didn't believe in one, especially not now, this was the most awkward part to her. What God would have taken the only thing she had ever had in life away from her? What God would take the mother of this beautiful child next to her away before Luci was even old enough to fully understand what had happened to her mother? A ruthless, merciless one that Maura didn't know if she could believe in. For all she had ever heard of His mercy, none seemed to be present. Yet being with Jane, the brunette had managed to make Maura open her mind and consider the possibility of a higher power, even if she didn't entirely believe in one.

As the service continued on the priest went on briefly about how amazing of a person Jane had been, how she had served her city and protected the lives of countless of others, how she had been a dedicated mother and wife, how she was a loving daughter, and as Maura listened as he went on, it became more and more difficult to keep her composure. Next there was a prayer, a hymn was sung, and then the priest reappeared in front of the group. Some to speak

"Before we continue and conclude with a final prayer and a concluding hymn, I invite some of Jane's closest friends and family members to speak regarding her."

The priest moved to the side, sitting down in a chair and leaving a heavy silence and empty podium. For a moment, no one moved, and then Korsak stood. He ran his hands over his uniform, straightening it out before he approached the podium. He gripped the sides, looking out over the large group of people, and thinking of how much Jane would hate being made the center of attention. Maybe it was that thought that caused it, but those words became his opening words.

"Jane hates," he paused, clearing his throat, "hated, being the center of attention. She didn't like anyone making a big deal over her. That being said, I think that's why this service is appropriate. There's no mayor, no flashy crowds, no forced blue wall, nothing over the top. Much like her partner Barry Frost, when Jane's life was cut short, we came out to support her memory and her family out of respect and love for who she was."

Faces looking back at him smiled, heads nodding as officers dressed in pristine uniforms agreed.

"Jane Rizzoli was an amazing detective. She did her job above and beyond the best of her abilities, and when it came to helping someone, to putting their life before her own, she did so without any regard to the personal consequences. But Jane was so much more than a detective. To me, she was like a daughter, a young woman with a bright future not only in her chosen career field, but in life in general. Jane was always a bit of a loner, being the only female in homicide, and the youngest at that, she felt challenged, like everyone was after her bone and she was the street dog that had strolled in with it. Then Jane met a young woman, also the youngest in her career field to ever become Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth, and Jane changed."

Maura's eyes locked with Vince's as she heard his words, snapping out of the reverie she had been in.

"This young woman had met Jane when she was still in the Drug Unit, and once she had become a homicide detective, they had clicked. Doctor Maura Isles changed Jane. She made Jane more careful, she made her fight harder for things, and she made her happier. From what I saw, Jane changed Mrs. Isles, as well. I'll never forget the day she laid Crowe out for calling the Doctor The Queen of the Dead, throwing in some rather cold expletives. Jane got up from her desk, almost as if she were just going to get coffee, and walked right up to him and threw a right hook."

A few cops and detectives chuckled, Angela and the Rizzoli clan smiled, Tommy grinning like a fool, and Maura, she smiled, her eyes watery as she laughed softly at the memory.

"From the moment Jane laid eyes on Maura Isles, she changed, and when she became her wife, Jane became so much more than the Detective Rizzoli we were used to. I'm grateful for that," Korsak said quietly. "Maura kept Jane from making reckless decisions that in the past would've been her first basic instinct, and if it weren't for this tragedy, for how her life has been taken away from us, then next week Jane would've made Lieutenant. She would've been the best damn Lieutenant anyone as ever seen in this city, and she would've kept these streets clean as long as she were around. We lost an amazing friend, detective, human being, and light on this earth when Jane was stolen from us," he admitted quietly, bright tears shining in his eyes. "And I will never forget the things she gave us, and that she taught us. At Detective's Frost's funeral she told us that death could not take all of the happy memories we have of him. Well, it can't take the ones we have of Jane, either. Jane will always live on in every single one of us. We miss you, Janie, and I hope when I get there and meet you at our big, round booth on the other side, you forgive me for calling you that aloud. It just sort of happened. We love you."

Korsak nodded at those in attendance and stepped down, going back to his seat. As he sat, Maura watched as her mother stood, Constance's steps careful as she climbed the few short steps and took her place at the podium. Richard watched his wife and smiled softly, acknowledging her gesture as she looked at him for reassurance. When her steel eyes fell on Maura, she saw that her daughter was stunned, obviously not expecting her mother to speak.

"I met Jane Rizzoli years ago when she was just my daughter's best friend. When I met this woman, when I shook her and, I learned things in that one gesture than I had ever imagined I would. Jane looked at me with a fierce gaze, one of protection for my daughter that I now know she looked at anyone who would endanger another human's life with. She shook my hand with a firm, tight grasp, holding it for a moment and looking me in the eye, showing me that she didn't care who I was or where I was from. That she was going to treat me the same as she treated everyone else, and that within itself made me respect her that much more. But in that moment, I learned quite possibly the most important detail about Jane."

Constance took a steadying breath, her hands gripping the podium as she gathered her words.

"Jane Rizzoli was a person of uncompromising spirit. She did not change for anyone. She neither hid what she was, nor tried to be anything else. She was merely Jane, and I respected that. In a world where most people will sell their morals and values and beliefs for a fistful of cash and anything of earthly value, Jane Rizzoli would not. In the time I knew her, I came face to face with a beautiful, pure, genuinely good soul and person, and I have been blessed by that. I cannot imagine what her mother, what her family, what her wife are all going through. But if my heart breaks this badly for the loss of this beautiful woman, then I know their pain must be immensely deeper than my own. I will always be thankful to Jane for several things that she did for me, but most importantly, I am thankful that she protected my daughter, gave me a family, and stayed who she was. She changed not only my daughter, but myself as well, and for that, I will always remember and cherish her for the unique person that she was."

As Constance returned to her seat, Richard met her halfway, taking her hand and kissing the back of it as he returned with his wife back to their seats. As Maura watched them, some small part of herself that was left in the deep recesses of her soul shattered in the most pain and cliché of the word. She physically felt it. She felt the pain of every lost year, of every lost touch, of every kiss she would never have and every date they would never go on. She felt it like a knife through the heart, as if someone were beginning the Y incision on her own autopsy, her nerves screaming at her from the inside out that everything would make her hurt. In that moment, Maura Isles completely broke. Tears fell down her face as she silently watched her parents and then watched Angela stand, Korsak rising with her and walking her to the stairs, kissing her cheek. Maura felt so much pain in that moment that her chest became tight and the small hand of Luciana was almost crushed in her grip. Maura's shoulders shook hard with every silenced sob, and as she looked next to her at Luciana and saw the little girl crying, she wrapped her arms around the small body and clung on tightly, afraid that if she let go she would explode from all the things she felt inside of herself. She focused on Angela's words as she spoke, her shoulders still shaking as she buried her face in her daughter's hair.

Angela looked out at the crowd, both amazed and proud of the amount of people who had shown up for her daughter's funeral. She saw rookie beat cops and senior detectives, Commissioner Cavanaugh and district attorneys, victim's families from murders she had solved, she could see Rondo and others she had helped, and then her own family and Maura's family. It was astounding how many lives one woman had touched, and the fact that she was Jane's mother made her feel honored.

"Looking around today I see familiar faces. I see Agent Dean and newly promoted Agent Crowe. I see Joey Grant and I see Casey Jones and his family. I see kids Jane went to school with and friends she made in recent years. Most importantly, I see the lives of people she has changed. I spent the majority of Jane's career being the worried mother. I hated her being a cop. I was terrified that one morning I would take up to the phone call or knock on the door that my Janie was gone. Underneath it all, under every nagging comment and worried remark, I was so immeasurably proud of my daughter," she choked out.

"Growing up, Jane was different, and as worried as that made me, I loved it all the more. She strived in everything she did, and was determined that being good enough wasn't anywhere near enough for her. She wanted to be the absolute best. When Jane became a cop, she set out to make a change in this world. Time and time again I watched her take on criminals of all types and come out on top, albeit bruised and scraped up. But that was Jane, and doing anything else would've made her miserable."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes as she gripped the podium as everyone before her, her knuckles turning white as she held on, hoping it would keep her upright and from passing out.

"Jane was my babygirl," she forced out. "And though I will always be missing a part of myself, I can't bring myself to hate the man who did this," she said quietly. "I forgive him because Jane would want me to. Because Jane would. She would pretend every day that she had never forgiven him, but underneath it all, Jane would, because she always believed that without forgiveness, we were just as bad as those who were heartless enough to take someone's life." She looked around, her eyes falling on the Medical Examiner who was crumbling in the pew. "My daughter was taken from us. From her family and friends, her career and her goals in life; she was taken from her wife of six years and her seven year old daughter. Jane was stolen from us. But we can keep her alive. Everyday do something for someone else. Be kind to someone who isn't kind to you. Give a beggar some change and a homeless man a meal. Give the teenager you think is a delinquent a talk, and show them there's a life for them that's brighter than they know. If you want to keep Jane alive, then remember how good of a person she was, and keep that alive every day in any way you can, and she will never truly be gone from us." Angela cleared her throat, tears streaming steadily down her face now. "Jane may not be with us anymore, but she is alive in our hearts. Trust me when I say that I have never felt a deeper pain than what I do now, and what I have felt for the past week; but that pain is there because I loved Jane, and she loved me, she loved all of us, and we were thankful enough to have her in our lives. Remember her every day," Angela told them all quietly, "in actions and stories and when you're reading the sports section of the paper. Remember her when you look at pictures of her that you have and when you hear a story about someone who gave something up for someone else. Remember her in every way that you can, and my daughter will not have died in vein."

The room fell into an eerie and sad silence as Angela returned to her seat, her make up smudged and her eyes red and puffy. The woman's pain was palpable, her plea for everyone to remember the astounding things her daughter had done lingering and engrained in everyone's hearts and minds. Angela's love for her daughter was unmistakable, and the tears she cried were evident on everyone else's faces as well. Tommy and Frankie were both crying and Frank was fighting to hold back tears. There was not a single dry eye in the entire service, and as the priest returned to the front, he had to wipe his own eyes and clear his throat in order to be understood when he spoke.

"Unless anyone else would like to speak, Mrs. Maura Isles will be the last person to speak before we sing and then do a departing prayer. Mrs. Isles," he introduced softly, motioning to the podium.

Maura picked her head up and pulled back from the lifesaving hug she had given Luciana. She smiled sadly, brushing a lock of the little girl's hair behind her ear before she whispered softly to the little girl.

"Do you want to go up with me, or do you want to stay with Nonna?"

"Nonna," she murmured quietly, her lower lip quivering.

Maura nodded and took the little girl's hand, leading her across the aisle to the other row, watching as Angela took the little girl's hand and then pulled her onto her lap, wrapping her arms tightly around the little girl. Maura swallowed thickly and made her way to the front, her steps slow but her back straight and her head held high. Her tears rimming her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She kept herself walking tall as she stepped up each step and made it to the podium, looking down at the wood under her hands. She drummed her fingers on it as she looked out at Korsak and nodded slightly. When she did, he nodded back, smiling softly. Maura took a deep breath.

"Usually, people write these things out and practice them for days," she began quietly. "Everyone wants them to be so perfect, to capture what their loved one was before they passed," she paused, "or was taken. However, the more time I spent trying to make this perfect, to put everything I wanted to say into words, the more I found that I couldn't. It became more difficult, not any easier, and in the end, each failed attempt simply left me sitting somewhere alone in the dark, lost in memories of my best friend," she sniffled softly, "of my wife."

She could feel all eyes on her as she began to feel her façade of strength crumble and fail.

"It's funny how in the end, when it's much too late, we begin thinking back on all of the beginnings, the firsts we go through in our lives. Just this morning, while getting ready, I thought back to the first time Jane ever told me she loved me," Maura confessed, her voice wavering as her fingers went subconsciously to her lips, brushing over them lightly as she smiled softly. "As I thought about all of the firsts, I found myself wanting to tell you all about them, but in the end, I couldn't. Those memories, those firsts, are mine to keep. That sounds selfish, incredibly and cruelly selfish, but it's the truth." She scanned the crowd, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"All of you have your memories of her, and just like me, you'll find yourself thinking back to them if you haven't already. Of her first steps, of the first time you met her, of the first time she came to you and asked for my hand and you told her no, of her first day as detective, of her first crime scene, of the first time she kicked your tail in the gym while sparring, of the first time she scowled at you or surprised you with a joke. Your memories, those firsts, are yours to keep, and I don't want to know them anymore than I want to share mine with you. So instead, I'll tell you about the things after those firsts."

Maura cleared her throat and wiped under her eyes, making sure no tears were falling.

"After our first date, Jane came over to my house the next morning with coffee in her hand and a single rose. She did this every day for six months, whether she met me at the bottom of the steps or left them on my pillow or in my office. The day she asked me to marry her, she left a rose with a ring around the stem on my pillow while she went downstairs to make breakfast. She thought it was cute. So did I. But I still made her get down on one knee and ask me properly." The entire room laughed softly.

"The first day back in town after our honey moon we were late to work. Everyone thought it was for the obvious reason. It was because Luciana had gotten sick that morning and we were both so tired that we just took the loss and got breakfast at our favorite diner before work. She was upset, and expected me to be upset, but I honestly couldn't have been happier. I was late to work because my family had made me so, not because I had woken up alone after sleeping through my alarm." She heard Angela laugh once.

"The day after the first time I ever met Jane, she came to the morgue in her uniform, her actual uniform, and I had found it incredibly difficult to focus on work; not only because of how she looked in it, but because she seemed so comfortable around me, and at that time most of the department wouldn't give me the time of day." A guilty silence filled the air.

"The first morning I woke up in the hospital next to Jane, after she had shot herself to save countless lives, she looked at me and said, 'You look like hell.' That was also the first time I cursed in front of her. She thought it was priceless." Maura smiled to herself.

"The last time I saw my wife, the last time Luciana saw her mother, was the morning she was killed." The room was so quiet that the silence seemed to ring in everyone's ears, and Maura was reminded of the first time Jane had ever kissed her. "I woke up with her next to me in a hoodie and sweat pants because I had apparently stolen the blankets that night, and Luciana lying on top of her asleep. I heard her phone ring and answered it, and when they told me she needed to come in to speak to Commissioner Cavanaugh, I woke her up to go, against the feeling in my gut that told me I shouldn't, because as I told Jane frequently, guts can't tell you something." She looked around. "I was wrong."

"Jane was a beautiful person, and she would hate to hear me say that. She would look at me right now, at all of us, and whine. She would look at me and say, 'Mauraaa, stop. You're acting like I'm perfect.' And she would say, 'if one more person calls me Janie, I'm going to kick their behind.' And she would be right. Because to me, she was beyond perfect, and we all know she hated being called Janie."

Maura looked at Luciana, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Every single day Jane would wake up and get dressed, and the last thing she would do was put her badge and gun on her belt. One morning, Luciana asked her why she had to wear those things. Jane told her it was to stop the bad people from hurting others, and that they kept her safe. A week and a half ago, those things weren't enough, but if you asked Luciana today what those things were for, she would tell you that they were her mother's hero stuff, and they kept her safe. Jane sacrificed so much to protect others. She was a dedicated detective, a dedicated officer of the law, and a dedicated citizen of Boston who strived to make this city, this world, a better place. Those are things no one can dispute. But she was also a loving wife, a protective mother, and a brave daughter."

As Maura looked around, in that exact moment she felt more alone than she ever had, and for one reason that she found herself voicing before she could stop herself.

"She was definitely all of those things; but that is not what I saw her as; that isn't what she is, or was, to me. I did not see her as Detective Rizzoli, later known as Detective Isles, identifying badge number Victor 825. To me, she was more than the city hero who shot herself to save others or the reckless detective who selflessly sacrificed her life for others, putting it in danger time after time. To me she was not a victim of a deranged serial killer named Charles Hoyt, who later found every single body he had ever hidden, and every victim he had ever claimed, and saved the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth from. To me, she was not the big, bad, swaggering detective that most of the department was terrified to confront. To me, she was not the girl from high school. To me, she was merely, Jane." She paused, taking in reactions.

"To hear me say that probably seems insulting, but it isn't. I didn't see her as all of those things, because she wasn't any individual one of them only. All of those things comprised her very being. They made up the woman I fell in love with. They made up my partner, my best friend, my wife, the loving mother to our child, and the one of a kind individual that I looked at and knew simply as Jane for over a decade. In twenty years, when we were retired and in my kitchen in the mornings, me watching her cook breakfast and her singing along to music on Spotify, she wouldn't be former Lieutenant or Sergeant Isles. She would be Jane. I would always simply see her as the woman I had fallen in love with when I didn't know I even could anymore, and that woman was simply Jane."

Maura took a shakey breath, looking down and biting her lip, recomposing herself before she looked back up at all of them and smiled as best as she could.

"Today we have heard from her mother Angela who raised her alongside Frank Rizzoli Sr. We've seen her brothers, Frankie and Tommy cry. We've seen her first partner and mentor, her friend, Vince Korsak speak on her behalf. We've seen that everyone she cared about, who cared about her, from Sean Cavanaugh to Casey Jones, to Gabriel Dean and Detective Grant gather here to remember and mourn Jane. You've seen me, you've seen her daughter Luciana, and you've seen my mother Constance Isles and her husband Richard Isles. You've seen so many people that helped Jane get through this life, and that she helped in return. We've been sad and mourned and Jane would absolutely hate it. She would want us to go out after this and have a beer, sit around telling stories about her at her favorite booth at the Robber, and that's probably what most of you will do. She'd want us to celebrate her life and the things she had done, and find at least one silver lining, one string of happiness in this; the simple truth is that right now, at this exact moment, we can't. It will take time, it will take each other, and it will take doing exactly as Angela has asked us to do in order to get through this, and in the end, we honestly never will. But Jane would always pick us up, brush us off, and charge head first into things for us. It'll be hard, doing that for ourselves now. But Jane had faith in us, in all of us. It's time we do those things and prove her right; don't let her down. So I want to thank you all for being here, for mourning and remembering Jane, and I want all of you to take the time you need and reach out to each other, and remember that the woman lying right there," she motioned to the casket, "might be gone in body, but her spirit is far from dead. She is very much alive. So keep her that way."

Maura looked out over the crowd one more time and then dropped her head, her face burning as she looked at the floor, her vision blurry and her steps cautious so she wouldn't fall down the three simple steps. As she reached the bottom, she felt everything she had tried holding in come rushing out, and before she knew what was happening, Vince Korsak was holding her in his arms, rubbing her back as she cried into his shirt, her tears silent but her shoulders shaking from the force behind her emotions. He walked her back to her seat, sitting next to her and holding her. Luciana watched, her small, dark eyes filled with tears. She slid herself off of Angela's lap, the older woman not catching her in time, and slipped out of the aisle. She looked at Maura for a moment before walking up to the casket.

Korsak murmured in Maura's ear, "look."

Maura pulled back, a death grip on Korsak's forearm, and looked at the sight in front of her. The priest, who had moved to go back to the front and dismiss everyone, stopped in his tracks, watching the little girl.

"Mommy," she murmured quietly. "Everybody else got to say stuff. I liked what they said," she said quietly, speaking clearly only to Jane. She put her small hands on the casket, her fingers running over the material of the casket flag. "I wish you was here, mommy," she mumbled, her voice shaking as tears threatened to fall. "Momma really misses you. I do, too. Your friends are really sad, and we just want you to come back. Please mommy," Luciana begged, little tears falling down her cheeks, "if you can hear me, don't forget that I love you, too. Momma says you aren't here, but you can hear me. I love you, mommy. Please come back."

Maura stood and approached Luciana, the eyes of everyone watching either filled with tears, downcast, or both, feeling they were interrupting a very intimate moment they were never supposed to see. Maura kneeled down and kissed her daughter's cheek.

"Mommy can hear you," she told Luci, "and she says she loves you, too."

She took Luci's hand and led her back to the seat, next to Korsak. The older man held Maura's free hand, not minding or saying a single world over how tightly she held on to him.

"At this time we will pray and then be dismissed to the graveside for the burial."

As the holy words were spoken, Maura sat stoic, feeling like anything that was left inside of her would have to go solely towards Luciana. Because she was now that little girls only mother, and Luciana was now Maura's last direct connection to Jane.