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23 March 2012 @ 01:26 pm
Fic - Monday (3/3) (Rizzoli & Isles)  

Title: Monday

Author: cj2017               

Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles

Rating: R

Category: Established R/I with a bit of everything else (and the kitchen sink chucked in for good measure!)

Word Count: Just shy of 6,000. This part 2,200.

Notes: I got a bit of a plot-bunny in my head and this was the result. Keep an eye on the time-stamps to avoid any “WTF?” moments… ;-)

Thanks and love to feroxargentea for, well just for everything really. Love also tolaurel_hardy for making this sound less like it was written by a Brit. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

A big thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to leave feedback. As always, it’s very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: Don’t own a thing. Please don’t sue me.



~ ~ ~

Monday (3/3)

~ ~ ~

6.07 p.m.

“Where the fuck are the medics?” Jane spoke through gritted teeth, her anger the only thing stopping her from completely falling to pieces.

“Three minutes,” Korsak said, folding his jacket and pushing it beneath Maura’s head as if that would make a fucking difference.

“I need something thicker. Fuck. A towel or something.” Jane’s hands were soaked with blood where she was pressing the pillowslip against Maura’s abdomen. The cotton slip had fallen out of the closet as the man had fled. It was pink, like everything else in the room, and absolutely useless at stopping Maura from bleeding. Jane threw it aside, where it landed with a wet slap on the floor, and she grabbed the towel Korsak held out to her instead. The towel felt better: thicker, more substantial, but the harder she pressed, the more blood flooded out, and it quickly became hot and heavy beneath her fingers.

“I don’t…” She looked up at Korsak. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”

“Just keep pressure on it,” he said, sounding as uncertain as she felt. “Keep pressure on it. They’ll be here in a minute.”

He covered Maura with a blanket from the closet, its cheerful rose pattern only emphasizing how pale she was. All the color seemed to have drained from her and her limp fingers were freezing cold when Jane squeezed them. The uneven rattle of her breathing filled the room.

“Ambulance is here.” Korsak’s voice startled Jane. She nodded, still pushing down, waiting for Maura to react, to move her hands away or at least tell her that she was doing it all wrong and correct her positioning. But Maura didn’t flinch and Jane pressed harder as she listened to the footsteps pounding up the wooden stairs.

~ ~ ~

6.14 p.m.

The paramedics had politely but firmly moved Jane aside. Working with quiet efficiency, they had inserted IVs, fastened an oxygen mask into place, and wrapped a thick padded dressing across Maura’s abdomen. As instructed, Jane squeezed the bag of fluid she was holding, watching it stream into the line as the medics strapped Maura onto a gurney. They had only been in the room for a few minutes but they were already looking to leave.

“Can I ride with her?” Jane asked.

Neither of the men responded—they didn’t even seem to have heard her—so she repeated her question, raising her voice above the crackle of radios, the creaking of the wooden floor, and Maura’s labored gasps.

Poised to lift the thin metal gurney, the elder of the men shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, there’s not really enough room.”

It was a lie and he lowered his eyes to stop Jane calling him on it. She knew what he was thinking, had spoken to enough paramedics to know that the one thing worse than their patient coding en route to the hospital was their patient coding en route in front of a loved one.

“I’ll take you,” Korsak said, handing his bag of fluid to the medic. “C’mon, give them some space here.”

She tucked her IV under one of the straps, fumbling for Maura’s hand but only succeeding in touching her fingers briefly. The medics almost ran down the stairs with their burden, and sirens were screaming before Jane had even reached the front door. Korsak put his arm around her shoulders and guided her out toward his car.

~ ~ ~

8.00 p.m.

Jane folded her shirt neatly, taking care to try to preserve the evidence. She placed it into the paper bag alongside her pants and then peeled her underwear off. Her bra was sodden and when she looked down she saw a deep red stain covering her chest. She walked slowly into the toilet cubicle, knelt, and vomited until her stomach ached and there was nothing left inside her. The tiled floor was blissfully cold beneath her bare legs. Maura had only been in surgery for an hour but cops were already queuing to donate blood and hovering in the ER, waiting for news. Jane wrapped her arms around her knees, rested her head on them, and wondered how long she could stay like that before someone came to find her.

~ ~ ~

11.00 p.m.

It wasn’t that Jane wasn’t listening, just that not much of what the surgeon was saying to her was really making sense. He was an older man with deep shadows beneath tired eyes and an accent that lilted in unexpected places. He used words like ‘hypovolemic’ and ‘superior mesenteric artery’, and Jane nodded, mentally noting them for later when Maura would be awake to explain what the hell he was talking about.

Maura had made it through the surgery. The surgeon had opened his monologue with that fact, and by the time the ringing in Jane’s ears had faded she was playing catch up trying to understand the damage that the single stab wound had wrought. It had been bad, ‘touch and go’, there had been massive blood loss and lacerations to Maura’s stomach and transverse colon. She was intubated, comatose, and settled in the ICU and Jane—being listed as her next of kin—got a golden ticket to her bedside.

Jane stood up when the surgeon did and began to follow him out of the waiting room. As she passed Korsak, he caught her in a bear hug and for a second she allowed him just to prop her up.

“Give the doc our love,” he said.

“I will.”

He left, then, to interrogate the seventeen-year-old who had murdered one woman and left a second fighting for her life. Jane turned in the opposite direction and headed for the ICU.

~ ~ ~

11.50 p.m.

The nurse taking care of Maura had given Jane a long, appraising look before ushering her into a chair, covering her with a blanket, and supplying coffee and a sandwich.

“She’s doing okay,” he said, his hands careful as he checked the dressings swathed across Maura’s abdomen. “Did Doc Fairley explain what’s under here?”

“He, uh, well…” Jane shrugged. “He tried.”

“Okay.” The nurse tucked the sheets back into place and perched on the arm of Jane’s chair. “She was bleeding out when she arrived and really the only way to deal with that in a time-critical patient is to cut. She has a wound from here,” he pointed to the left of his own abdomen, “to here.” His finger arced over to his right side.

Jane swallowed dryly. “Jesus.”

“He located and repaired an arterial bleed and lacerations to her stomach and large intestine.”

“Gonna hurt like hell when she wakes up.” Jane spoke from experience, her hand unconsciously drifting toward the scar on her own abdomen.

               The nurse gave her a curious look but didn’t push and Jane didn’t say anything else, didn’t mention her self-inflicted injury or the hours Maura had spent by her side as she recovered. She wondered whether this was her penance; having to see Maura like this seemed to be an object lesson in ‘what goes around comes around’.

“She’s comfortable at the moment. You finish your sandwich,” the nurse said kindly, somehow sensing that the conversation had come to an end. “I’m just over by the desk if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Jane waited for him to leave and then pulled her chair closer to the bedside. Maura’s fingers were warmer when Jane took hold of her hand, and her face was no longer quite so deathly pale. Jane kissed her palm and settled in to wait.

~ ~ ~

Tuesday: 3.15 a.m.

The numbers meant very little to Jane but she watched them anyway, having quickly established that red was bad and came with an alarm, and that amber was satisfactory. She had yet to see anything flash into green. Danny, the nightshift nurse, made frequent checks, changing fluids, emptying drains, and adjusting certain settings on medication pumps and the vent. He plied Jane with coffee, gave her chocolate from his own snack box, and at no point attempted to tell her to go home and get some sleep.

“Detective Rizzoli?”

She looked up as he approached.

“There’s a call for you at the desk.”

“Right.” She automatically turned to Maura, but Danny came to stand by the bed.

“Go on, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Jane’s knees clicked loudly as she stood. She groaned, trying to work the kinks out of her back.

“You want a Tylenol chaser with your next coffee?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, maybe.” She gave him a weary smile and hobbled over to the desk, where a nurse she didn’t recognize handed her the phone and pressed a flashing button on the keypad.

“Rizzoli.”

“Hey.” Korsak sounded as exhausted as she felt. “How’s she doin’?”

“Critical but stable.” Jane sighed. “Whatever the fuck that means.”

“Means she’s hanging in there, I guess.”

“I guess so. You making any progress?” She heard a faint rustle as if he was looking through his paperwork.

“Our bad guy is Thomas Argyle. Renowned crackhead in NYC, decided to put down new roots in Boston. Started crying like a baby within the first ten minutes of the interview, then owned up to this one and the West Roxbury job.”

“That’s good.” Although she tried to sound enthusiastic, they both knew it was a hollow victory. She was on the verge of ending the call when Korsak spoke again.

“First officers on scene have also been interviewed. They both swore to checking that closet, but one later admitted he’d only opened the door closest to the wall, said he’d been afraid of disturbing the scene.”

“Jesus Christ.” Something in Jane’s arm ached and she realized belatedly how hard she was gripping the phone. “Stupid fucking bastards.”

“I know. They’re gonna get written up for it.”

“They should come down here and look at her, Korsak.” Jane’s voice cracked and tears slipped down her cheeks. “They should come down here and see what he did to her.” She wiped her nose on her hand and then gratefully took the tissue the nurse held out. Korsak was stumbling through an awkward goodbye. She put him out of his misery by promising an update in a few hours and hung up.

“Thanks,” she said to the nurse, and laughed dryly when the nurse offered her the rest of the box. “I think I’m good.” She took a deep, steadying breath and walked back to Maura’s bedside.

~ ~ ~

5.55 a.m.

A team of doctors had ushered Jane into a small waiting room and left her there without telling her anything. Danny had finished his shift and the new nurse had been called to assist the medics with whatever they were doing. Maura had seemed better; most of her numbers were green and the dayshift nurse had been very impressed with something she had seen in one of the drains.

“Detective?”

Jane stood up so fast that she knocked her chair over.

“Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” the nurse said, righting the chair for her. “She’s asking for you.”

The words didn’t really make sense at first and Jane just nodded blankly.

Seeming to take pity on her, the nurse put a hand on her arm. “The doctors just took her off the vent. She’s kinda drowsy but she’ll know you’re there.”

Something in Jane’s legs abruptly gave way and she sat down again. “She’s awake?”

“On and off.” The nurse smiled. “Take a minute, detective, then you can go see for yourself.”

~ ~ ~

6.00 a.m.

Despite the drugs that made it so difficult to stay awake and the pain that repeatedly caught her unawares, Maura smiled the instant she felt Jane squeeze her hand. It took her three attempts to move her fingers and two to open her eyes, but when she did, the expression on Jane’s face made all the effort worthwhile.

“Hey, baby.” Jane leaned down and kissed Maura. Her lips tasted salty where her tears were falling.

“Ssh, don’t cry,” Maura whispered. “I’m okay.” Sleep was already pulling at her, blurring her vision and her speech. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Jane said, and Maura allowed herself to lean back into the pillows and relax, no longer worried about the sutured rent across the width of her abdomen, or whether she would get an infection, or how long it would take her to recover.

“Hell of a day,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Jane said. Her fingers stroked gently across Maura’s forehead. “Yeah, it was one hell of a day.”

~ ~ ~

End

~ ~ ~

And now for our regularly schedule pimpage for anyone who might be interested in reading some original f/f fiction by me… My first novel, Snowbound (written under the pen name Cari Hunter), is available to buy at Bold Strokes Books or over on amazon (where it’s now out in Kindle!) \o/  

There’s an lj/author’s blog here and BSB have the first chapter up as a preview here.



 
 
 
iocaste_gr: icon[2]iocaste_gr on March 23rd, 2012 02:43 pm (UTC)
Reading this part really brought back some of those ugly feelings you get when you wait outside an OR for some news and you feel so powerless and small. I'm sure Jane knows now exactly how Maura felt when she was injured. Anyhow, I'm glad Maura will be ok and that means Jane will be ok too. Thank you!
cj2017: Rizzoli 2cj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:39 am (UTC)
You're welcome! Many thanks for reading and taking the time to let me know your thoughts :-) I liked the idea of the boot being on the other foot with Jane in this one; we never really see her as helpless or out of control in these kinds of situations.
afret2010afret2010 on March 23rd, 2012 04:31 pm (UTC)
Excellent ending. I was thinking exactly what you said, "what goes around comes around"!

Poor Jane I think the person doing the waiting may have the harder part to play, especially a person like Jane.
cj2017: Rizzoli1cj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:41 am (UTC)
Thank you. I agree about the waiting being the hard part. The recovery part would be largely Maura's battle but the waiting would be horrendous for the person at the bedside, especially for someone more accustomed to being active as opposed to passive.
but a dream within a dreammargo_lett on March 23rd, 2012 04:56 pm (UTC)
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Such a subtle ending. :) Loved reading every bit of it! While reading this last chapter I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. Beautiful!!
cj2017: Rizzlescj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:45 am (UTC)
:-) Very happy you enjoyed it.
(Deleted comment)
cj2017cj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:47 am (UTC)
Ta! I think I should write them as an established couple more often. Season two mucked them around so much, I'd forgotten how very sweet they are together.
laurel_hardylaurel_hardy on March 23rd, 2012 07:47 pm (UTC)
Phew! Maura's going to be OK!!! I think perhaps you were being cruel to be kind and let us all feel Jane's raft of scary EMOSHUNS over imperiled Maura, but also her relief (although a word that is exponentially larger in scope would describe it better) to know that Maura will recover. I'm guessing Maura will be able to do at least as much damage shopping on line during her recovery as Jane did, but probably of a different order. I wonder what it will be like for Jane to be the caregiver for a change.
cj2017: Rizzlescj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:53 am (UTC)
You know, I'm wondering that myself...Maybe I'll write A Week on Monday one of these days (having said that, I have no idea whether that phrase even means anything Stateside!)

As for Maura in boxers... Gerritsen, WTF?! She already writes shitty books, now she's gone for shitty product placement? Have some fucking shame, woman! And those ugly budgie smugglers were totally not the boxers I was imagining. I was going more with something like this...http://www.fogeyunlimited.co.uk/acatalog/Boxer_Shorts.html

PS: I fucking love that that store is called Fogey Unlimited :-)
laurel_hardylaurel_hardy on March 24th, 2012 04:49 pm (UTC)
I share your outrage over Gerritsen tasteless marketing (although if we took her name and stupid ass phrasing off themI have a feeling Maura would make them work), but I'm afraid I can't follow you to fogeyland, as much as I like their branding. Cause they really did get the fogey part right. One look at those and my brain screamed "DAD?!?!?!". Which for me anyway is quite the buzz kill. I mean the man's been dead for 10 years, I don't see how he could get any fogeyer. Can we get her some nice plaid or striped or polka dotted ones? Hey, how about paisley? Dad would never wear any of those.

A Week on Monday makes perfect sense, both as a title and as a story I'd like to read.
cj2017: Rizzlescj2017 on March 25th, 2012 08:49 am (UTC)
Maura might well make those pants work...I dunno, they're just too fitted, I like my women in looser shorts ;-) Plaid, striped, polka dotted...LOL, funny you should mention that! I must have a thing for this underwear, I just remembered I managed to get them into the new BSB story as well!

As for A Week on Monday, we'll see. I seem to be having an R&I renaissance at the moment, I actually watched some bits of eps yesterday (something I've not done in months) and yeah, it's still utter shit, but they are awfully cute ;-) Not looking forward to countless episodes of them sniping at each other in S3. Their rel is the ONLY reason for watching, ergo them not actually having a rel would lead me to switching off PDQ.
laurel_hardylaurel_hardy on March 25th, 2012 05:28 pm (UTC)
Yay for undies in the new epic! Here's hoping at some point they come off. And I bet if it came to it, you wouldn't be overly upset with a looser woman in tighter pants.

Now don't forget that R&I's parent TNT 'knows drama', so I'm pretty sure that's why Tamaro threw a spanner into the works after finding that too much attention on secondary characters only got us so far and not where we wanted to be. So now in S3 they can have all kinds of those pesky EMOSHUNS for each other and thinking a lot about them. And work on their relationship. Hopefully Tamaro will fight the urge to cast old friends, too, cause Bill O'Reilly and Peter Bogdonovich both contributed major low points for S2. I remember you saying you didn't recognize Bogdonovich. He first got famous as a director, I remember he did the first version of The Heartbreak Kid with Cybill Shepherd and they were famously together as a couple back then. I think he slid over to acting when he didn't get many director gigs.
cj2017: sarah phonecj2017 on March 25th, 2012 07:59 pm (UTC)
Here's hoping at some point they come off.

They do! *laughs* I can't believe I'd forgotten about those, makes me suspect I might have a subconscious little fetish here...

S3 is always rift season. It's like, written or something. Everyone always fucks up the leads for S3 - X-Files, Xena, Farscape, Alias, BSG just off the top of my head(Sarah Connor Chronicles jumped the gun and fucked around with S2, which was probably fundamental in its cancellation!) I bet there's a show-runner's handbook somewhere with this crap all enshrined within it. I rewatched the final scene of S2 the other day which was a major mistake because it was horribly written, acted and scored. So, who's looking forward to S3...*head-desk*

Bogdonovich, was he the one wearing the glasses in the finale? The one out of The Sopranos? I would IMDB him, but it's Sunday night, I'm full of roast lamb and I just can't be bothered! ;-P
laurel_hardylaurel_hardy on March 23rd, 2012 07:54 pm (UTC)
I believe you and sunsetwriter were extolling the virtues of Maura in boxers, especially Jane's boxers? Yeah, well, Tess Gerritsen must have overheard you:p://store.tessgerritsen.com/products/want-to-see-my-badge-boxers
Personally, I'd love to see either of them in (or out of) boxers, just not these. I love how Tess is kind enough to tell us we can wear them under clothes. Groundbreaking.
hermitstullhermitstull on March 23rd, 2012 10:17 pm (UTC)
Whew! For a second I wasn't sure if Maura was going to pull through. I really enjoyed how the sweet snapshots of part two contrasted with the angsty snapshots of part 3.
Great ending also and so subtle. Thanks for writing!
cj2017: Rizzoli 3cj2017 on March 24th, 2012 09:57 am (UTC)
Cheers for reading! I wasn't sure what people would make of this one, so it's really lovely to know that some folk have enjoyed it :-)
sunsetwritersunsetwriter on March 24th, 2012 11:41 am (UTC)
Aw, great ending to another great story. I'll say again how much I love the realism your stories have. I also love the nurses interactions with Jane in this one. It's obvious they sense the connection between J & M without being told. I know a lot of nurses and a lot of them DO seem to have a sixth sense sometimes. (It also seems that a lot of them bat for our team too, but that's for another conversation!)

I'm not big on 'netspeak', but when it comes to those 'boxers' I have to say: WTF?? Who even knew there was a Rizzoli & Isles store? Obviously not me. And I wouldn't even call those badge things boxers. I'm glad you and I have the same idea of what boxers are. If that makes me a 'Fogey' then I'll wear that badge proudly! :-)

By the way, I'll look forward to reading A Week On Monday... ;-)
cj2017: Rizzlescj2017 on March 24th, 2012 02:56 pm (UTC)
I love writing nurses. I don't know why really, maybe because they have that much more connection/empathy with the patients than doctors tend to have. And LOL, in my experience, there are a hell of a lot of nurses batting for our team!

I'm with you in being a Fogey. I have no idea what those R&I boxers are all about but they certainly weren't what I envisioned Maura wearing.

As for A Week on Monday, I am never one to say never ;-)

Thanks for your lovely feedback; a pleasure as always.
insanityonline1insanityonline1 on March 24th, 2012 12:23 pm (UTC)
Loved this. I know Jane will be able to help her get better even though that was a heck of an injury. Jane knows all about those.

Loved the simple ending here "Hell of a day".

Fantastic :)
cj2017: Rizzoli 2cj2017 on March 24th, 2012 02:59 pm (UTC)
Thank you :-) I think Jane would make a decent, if amusingly inept nursemaid - she's probably be able to cook up a chicken soup but then spill it all over the bed, that kind of thing *g*

I really appreciate the feedback, it'd been a while since the last fic and I always get a little nervous about posting!