Summary: Several years after their friendship was destroyed, Maura finds her way back into Jane's life when the detective is accused of murder. Can they overcome what drove them apart or is it really too late to start over?

Pairing: Rizzles - because is there really anything else?

Rating: T, mainly for language

Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles. They belong to Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

Note: I had originally intended for this to just be a one shot but as I wrote it I felt it had the potential of becoming a multi chaptered story so here goes. This will be a slow burner so please, be patient. I will also continue to update my other Rizzles story "To Protect And Serve"

Chapter 1

Prologue

~()~

I know I've tried your patience
I know I've stretched your heart
The sky fell down hard upon me
I been crawling in the dirt
Nobody's fault but mine for sure
And not just me who's hurt
I went out from the halls of grace
Turned my back on my own
Please leave your light on for me
Cos I've been taking the long way home

~Paul Kelly -Please Leave Your Light On For Me

~()~

The first time it happened was after a case that drained them both emotionally. They had never been so broken, so destroyed. They were no longer the people they had been before and the world seemed different. Somehow facing the depravity of mankind had left them cold and numb, their hearts aching and yearning for something, anything, that would make them feel human and alive again. It had been a natural progression; too much beer, too much wine. Too much pain, too much of everything else. Too much of anything is never good and she realised that the next morning when she found the bed empty and cold. Her clothes were gone. She didn't even leave a note.

They carried on as if nothing ever happened. That one night had been banished to a different world, a world that didn't exist within their real lives. It lay hidden underneath the base of their friendship, like an evil monster lurking in the dark, and neither of them saw how their denial was slowly tearing things apart. You see, something that has been done can never be undone, no matter how hard you try. It is always there's like a broken heart made out of glass. You can fit the pieces back together but you will always be able to see the cracks. And the next time it breaks you may not be able to put it back together again.

People have the ability to ignore things they just want to forget but our brain has the nasty habit of forcing us to remember. We want to just move on, pretend that all the bad things never happened, but then there's a voice, or a smell or even just some goddamn song on the radio that rips your heart right out of your chest. She'd stopped listening to the radio a long time ago. The memories sucked and she couldn't deal with the pain.

The second time it happened was because she lost her temper. Fuelled by anger, by frustration. She'd been waiting for the damn lab results for six hours and still nothing. She'd stormed down to the morgue and found her in her office, reading something on her computer. The windows had vibrated as she slammed the door behind her. She hadn't registered the panic and fear in her eyes. Her anger was too blinding, too all consuming. What followed was a fight that brought to the surface everything they had tried to hide. After that they were broken, their lives forever changed, and as they stared at each other they knew they would never be able to escape from this.

Somehow their anger had driven them back into each other's arms. It hadn't been about love or passion or even kindness. It had been borderline feral. The marks left behind ran deeper than the bruises across pale toned skin. There were wounds that would scar but never heal. She knew she had been driven by an underlying desire to be loved, to feel wanted and needed. But she chose to ignore it. When she walked out of her office she felt her heart ache in her chest. She knew that when that door closed behind her there would never be a way back. She kept walking, right out of the morgue and right out of her life.

Their friendship had ended in that moment. What remained was a professional relationship so strained that people avoided being in the same room with them. They avoided each other, too. She went as far as erasing her number from her phone and requesting a different M.E to work her cases. She did anything not to be reminded of what her life had once been like.

Days turned into months and the words they spoke to each other became fewer and fewer. Gone were glances, the tentative smiles. What had once been their friendship was now a pile of burning ashes, left behind after the flames had torn the foundations apart. They were now just two people who had become strangers, pulled apart by their own feelings. They were no longer friends. They were nothing anymore.

There was a third time. It was more painful than the other times before because she had come to say goodbye. She had stood outside her apartment door, guilt etched across her face, looking forlorn. The rain had ruined her designer dress and her hair was stuck to her face. She couldn't help but find her so fucking beautiful and hate her at the same time. The words she spoke had hit her in the face like a sledgehammer. Somewhere along the way she had lost track of her life, of what she was doing. She hadn't even noticed something had changed. She didn't even know she was anymore. When had they become these people? These shadows?

"I'm getting married, Jane."

It hurt. It hurt like no other fucking thing had ever hurt in her life.

Her heart shattered into pieces she knew she would never be able to put back together. She didn't see the point anyway. She didn't need it anymore.

But still they fell into each other again and when it came to the moment where she left the bed, her head hung in shame, she couldn't meet her eyes. Even after all this time, with all the anger between them and all the things left unsaid, she couldn't face her. She couldn't look back at what they had been, what they could have become. All she had were the broken pieces of their lives, torn apart and left to die, and as she got dressed she knew that when she left this apartment, she would never come back again. She also knew that if she were to turn around, she would never be able to leave. She walked right out of the door without even whispering goodbye.

And here she stood, in the back row of some big church in the middle of Boston. It was packed full of people, all dressed in their most expensive suits and dresses. They all smiled. She blended in perfectly here in the back. No one saw her, no one paid attention to her. They didn't see how a quiet tear slid down her cheek as she watched how the women who still held all the pieces of her broken heart gave what was left of her own to someone else.

She winced when she heard the words "I do" roll off her lips.

They were a lie. The whole damn thing was a fucking lie.

Jane Rizzoli slowly turned around and stepped out of the church, back into the early morning Boston sunshine. It felt warm on her skin and it quickly dried the red marks left behind by her tears.

It was over.