A/N: Hello everyone! I was asked to do another story and I thought, "What the hay? Lets give it a go." Anyway, the idea came to me by way of book and yes I am a book nerd. It's called Thanks for the Memories, by Cecelia Ahern. Like my last story I based off a book it will have some of my favorite lines from the book but I use the book as an idea for a Rizzles story. I make it my own and as we all know I do not own Rizzoli and Isles nor do I own Thanks for the Memories. Mistakes are my own, and I have little knowledge of how blood donations and transfusions work, so let's just all assume what I type is fact and not me wildly guessing about medical knowledge.

"The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." It was a quote my mother would tell me when I felt like giving up in life. She would say that life wasn't about my failures but about what I accomplished. And what had I accomplished? Sure, I had a medical degree but that was all. I didn't have a job; I quit it so I could move back to New York to be closer to my mother. I didn't have a husband; I divorced him after the second affair. I didn't have friends; lost those when I lost my husband. I didn't have kids; no I lost her when I lost my footing.

I've never really loved, never really lived. I would never be able to either. My life taunts me now. It makes me see what I've failed to do and as I lay here dying, I see what I could have made out of my life. But there is no life in me. None that I can feel, where I lie at the bottom of the staircase. The only part that still works is my lonely heart. Urging me to fight, knowing it has so much love to give. I want to laugh, I know the heart cannot love but that little idiot keeps pumping blood and I have no idea why. It's the best I can come up with. I guess I am truly dying when I throw science out the window and rely on outlandish ideas. And I do laugh when I think that the thing that is trying to help me survive is the thing that is killing me. My heart is laboriously trying to help heal me, but as it does it is pumping all the blood out of me.

"MAURA! NONONO! Maura dear. It's okay. I'm here." I can hear my mother scream.

I want to tell her that it is okay that if I let go the pain will stop. I would tell her that I would be with my little daughter then. The only thing I've ever wanted in life, the thing that has kept me going. I'd tell her that there is no more glory, that this time I wouldn't be rising. I would meet my unborn baby.

I feel her release me and I think maybe just maybe she has heard my thoughts, or at least saw them in my eyes: in my pain. But it's then I hear her frantic voice calling for an ambulance. She is screaming into the phone so loudly I doubt anyone can understand her. As she hangs up she comes down to my side grabbing my hand and it's then that I hear the panic and tears. I have never seen my mother cry. NEVER. She has always been so very strong. I would do anything to make her stop. I know how she feels. I may have never met my daughter but the loss is just the same. She will fell the same when I let go. I try as hard as I can, to not give up. I try to wait for the ambulance, for help to arrive but the pain and pull have taken over and with a final squeeze to my mother's hand I let the pull take over.

ONE MONTH EARLIER.

"Oh my gosh this is incredibly boring. I don't understand what the lieutenant thought we would get out of this?" Detective Jane Rizzoli groans as she whispers to her partner.

"Hey, it's a free trip to New York AND we aren't at work. So I'm okay with it…but it is hella boring." Detective Barry Frost leans in again and adds, "My only question is why they have this Doctor here telling us to give blood. We have our annual blood drive back at our own station. They must be hard up here."

They both turn their heads forward to pay attention as the man standing at the podium begins to speak louder and his eyes come to rest on the two detectives. "Fewer than 2% of New Yorkers are blood and platelet donors, providing blood for a population of a little more than eight million. One in four people will need a transfusion. So if you can donate today please head into the main banquet hall after you have been dismissed from the conference leader." The doctor gives the room a warm smile and heads down the steps and out the door. And Jane tries to hide the sadness from Frost has he looks over to her and raises a questioning eyebrow.

It's the last day of their conference and both were not planning on being guilt tripped into giving blood. It is why Jane plops herself down in a chair after getting interviewed by the donor tech. "I can't believe we got talked into doing this. I know it's for a good cause and all but still, I thought we'd have a drink in hand and an order of delicious cheesy fries waiting for us by now." Jane grumbles to an irritated Frost.

Frost can sense her unease and knows better than to ask her about it. "You're telling me Jane? I thought I would be one drink closer to having the courage to talk to that blonde that's been in the hotel bar the last few nights."

"I swear whoever gets my blood better thank their lucky stars for me. Like I want fruit baskets and thank you notes for this." Jane jokes as she pulls out her phone and begins to play on it. "Seriously, I want a massage and the works from the person who receives my blood…the blood that is apart of me…I'm literally giving them a piece of myself. I think I deserve at least the thank you card."

Glancing out of the side of his eye Frost says, "Man, you are such a grumpy person. If I didn't know better I'd say Korsak was rubbin' off on you."

"I don't want another word out of you." Jane responds as she turns her chair away from her partner.

"MOMMA!" squeals the little girl as she barrels down the stairs. "You're home."

"Yes stinky, I am." Jane replies as she lifts her daughter, Lina (short for Carmalina) up and into her arms. "Did you have a fun time with your grandma and uncles?"

Burying her face into her mother's neck the little girl responds, "Yes, Uncle Frankie taught me how to arrest a perp and we practiced on Uncle Tommy all week."

Setting her daughter on the ground Jane laughs, "I bet Uncle Tommy was thrilled to be arrested by you…better than all the other times he was arrested by strangers." She whispers the last part into her brother's ear as she pulls him into a headlock.

"Well, now I don't feel too bad for teaching her what I did." Tommy sneers at his older sister. Looking back at his niece he smiles "Show your mom what I taught ya." And the little girl sticks her hand under her shirt and proceeds to make armpit farts for her mother.

"TOMMY!" Jane tries to say sternly as she holds in her laughter.

Rounding the corner a laughing Frankie comes into the room. "Come on Jane, she needs to have a little manly influence in her life." It's an innocent comment but it stings Jane all the same. Noticing his slip up he quickly tries to recover, "I'm sorry…I just meant…"

After an awkward pause Jane responds, "It's okay. I know what you meant brother. It just that once it seems a little easier, just knowing she is missing out takes over and then the pain comes back."

Resting his hand on his sister's shoulder Frankie speaks in a hushed tone. "It's okay Jane, you know we are all here to talk if you want to. It's been a while and just because we don't ask doesn't mean we wouldn't listen."

"I know." Jane says in a solemn voice. "Thanks."

It's a real and genuine moment they have shared. But it is out of both their comfort zones. It is why they are both grateful that the matriarch of the family chooses that moment to come bustling into the room. Grabbing her daughter she wraps her in a tight hug, "Janie! I'm so glad you're back. I've been cooking all day. Are you hungry?"

And Jane smiles brightly, "Starved."

The rest of the night passes with all the Rizzoli's conversing at the dinner table. Jane giving details of the conference that Barry and her were forced to attend. How she donated blood on the last day instead of hanging in the bar with the regulars they had meet on their stay.

After cleaning up the mess and saying goodbyes, Jane wrangles up her daughter to head home. Running down the sidewalk Jane watches her daughter's light brown locks bounce around in front of her. "You have a lot of energy, is it from excitement that I'm home or because one of your uncles gave you candy?"

With a toothy grin, Lina hops into the backseat of the car and before closing the door she replies, "I'm just happy you're home." And Jane kisses her hand before placing it on the window to show her love.

Rounding the car to get into the driver's seat, she starts the engine and pulls out onto the street. After a few silent moments, Jane speaks, "Hey, I have the day off tomorrow but I have to go in to grab something. Do you want to go to breakfast before? It's your choice."

Not hearing an answer she looks in the rearview mirror to see her daughter has fallen asleep. She used to love watching her daughter sleep. It was so peaceful to watch but now it only brings sadness. Sadness because when Lina sleeps, she looks like her father. Which brings the definitive sadness of him being gone. The sadness of being alone.

After carrying her daughter in the house and putting her to bed, Jane busies herself with household chores. It is a habit she created when her husband had died. It had started as a way to keep her mind busy, busy enough to forget her suffering and heartache. Now, it was to forget the solitude she has found herself in.

Almost two years has passed since her husband Casey died but the memory stuck in her mind like it was yesterday. It was a nice sunny day out when Jane and Lina returned from the park to find uniformed soldiers waiting outside her door. She knew right then that he was gone. The soldiers were brief and didn't tell her much. It was later she found out the details of her husbands death. A RPG hit the convoy he was in and his vehicle had flipped over. When help arrived they had found him pinned down inside the vehicle. Upon releasing him they discovered that the contents inside had severely punctured his abdomen. When they reached the medical tents there wasn't enough blood to pump back into his draining body. Casey had bleed out in a dirt filled tent in the Middle East.

That is the reason Jane was guilted into giving blood on her last day in New York. She wanted to help those who were in need. Not only because that was in her nature but also because she herself had experienced firsthand what it was like to lose someone over a senseless reason like a lack of blood donations.

It was in these moments, these late night cleaning sessions when she realized she wanted nothing more than to move on. Find someone to make a fresh start with. Who could love her and her daughter more than anything in the world.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think but please be kind.