"What about that one?" he scoots a little closer to her on the bench, and points out a woman as she jogs by. She has on leggings that stop mid-calf, and a snug, form fitting tank top.

"What about that one?" He asks again, as she shakes her head, looking down into her lap.

"Seriously? I don't think you're being honest with me. She's hotter than you are, and that's saying something."

"No," she says hoarsely.

Casey pretends to mope. "I feel like you're not enjoying this," he says, reaching out to run a finger along her jaw. "I'm trying to connect more with you."

Jane tries not to clench her fists. "You read my private writing," she says under her breath. "You had no right."

"I'm your husband," Casey says brightly. "Nothing's off limits. Not even your diary."

"It's not-" She cuts herself off, unwilling to take the obvious bait. "This can't be fun for you," she says instead. "There's no way you're enjoying any of this. Why don't you just walk away. I wouldn't keep Riley or Kara from you. I wouldn't-"

But Casey looks away from her, indicating a new passerby with a lift of his chin. He slides his arm around her shoulder, and presses his fingers hard against the spot where he knows there is a bruise.

She hisses.

"What about that one?" he asks. "The one with the stroller. Would you leave me for her, Jane?"

…

…

"I was paged?" Maura steps into the brightly lit waiting area of the clinic, looking around at the patients still there, wondering whose injury is serious enough for her to be summoned at 2AM.

"Dr. Isles," she turns to see RN Susie Chang hurrying towards her. "Thank you so much for coming. I know it's late…or early, I suppose."

"It's not a problem," Maura says. "When we opened, I said no matter the hour. These women and men deserve that."

"Yes, Doctor," Susie says. "Thank you."

Maura turns to the little waiting area again. There is a girl, half asleep in her seat, with the dark circles and pale pallor of a street kid. She twitches herself awake, and when she sees Maura looking at her, she turns her head away.

There is a young man with an infant on his lap, but neither of them look to be in very bad shape.

"Where-"

"I already brought her through to a room," Susie says, beckoning the doctor towards the back corridor. "She had two kids, and one of them seemed about asleep on his feet."

Maura feels her worry and her anger spike. She hates it when there are children involved.

"Are the children hurt?"

"No, Doctor," Susie says. "And...I don't know how much you'll be able to do for their mother." Susie hesitates.

"Should you have called an ambulance?"

"She is refusing to go to the hospital," Susie says, stopping outside of one of the two bedroom suites that line the back of the clinic. Susie gestures to a rolling cart parked by the door. "I stocked this with everything I think you'll need," She says quietly.

"Aggressive?"

"No," Susie says. "Not at all."

"Verbal?"

"Minimally."

Maura nods. "Okay. Are you alright? Do you need a moment?" Susie always has more trouble tending to the patients than Maura does. It is hard for her not to ask questions about what happened, to not fill with righteous anger at even half of a story.

"Yes," Susie says with a deep breath. "Yes - I mean - no. I'm okay."

Maura nods again. "I'll come check in with you when I'm through," she says. And after Susie nods and heads back to the front desk, she steps up to the door marked 212, knocks softly, and pushes it inward.

….

….

"Detective. Come in. Take a seat."

There are already two other people the office when Jane arrives, and she takes the vacant seat between the strangers with a rising sense of foreboding. It doesn't help that Korsak looks graver than she can ever remember seeing him. She bites back the witty retort on the tip of her tongue and waits for someone else to speak first.

"Thank you for coming Detective Rizzoli," Korsak says formally. Jane feels her anxiety spike even more. "We don't want to take you away from work for too long, so I'll try to make this brief. This is Herman White, your Union Rep," Korsak indicates the man on her left. "And this is Doctor Alexander Russell, he's…" Korsak hesitates as their eyes meet for the first time. "He's the Department Psychologist."

Jane stares blankly at Korsak, trying to figure out what kind of trouble she must be in to find herself surrounded by such people.

"Okay," she manages, when it is clear they expect her to speak. It's lame, but she can't think of anything else to say.

Korsak frowns at her. He was clearly expecting more. The psychologist takes that moment to interject.

"If I might, Sergeant," he says, turning in his seat so that he is facing Jane. "I know that this meeting might seem daunting, Detective Rizzoli, but I assure you, everyone in this room just wants what's best for you, your career, and your family."

Jane feels panic slice through the mild irritation at this man's condescension. She turns back to Korsak sharply.

"Is my family okay?" she asks.

It is Dr. Russell who answers this question. "What would make you ask that, Jane?"

Jane snorts. She can't help herself. "You just brought them up," she says, not bothering to disguise her irritation this time. She turns back to Korsak. "Is it Kara? Is she okay? Can I call-"

"Calm down, Jane," Korsak cuts across her. "Kara's fine, and so is Riley. They're fine. It's…It's just that…" Again, he looks flustered. Unable to meet her eyes.

"There have been allegations made against you." This is the union rep on her other side, and she spins to face him. His face is impassive, almost bored.

"What?"

"There have been allegations made against you," Mr. White repeats, as though commenting on the weather. "Domestic abuse and child endangerment."

Jane feels all the air leave her chest in one sharp burst.

"Not official," Dr. Russell says quickly. "Not official reports. That's why we're all here now. Korsak insisted we sit down and talk about what's going on. He feels we can come to an understanding about-"

"Casey says I hurt my children?" She asks. She leans forward trying to get Korsak to meet his eyes. "He says I-"

Dr. Russell's hand on her shoulder cuts her sentence short.

In the days and weeks and years to come, she will think about this moment every single day. She will never in her life have more regret over one of her actions.

She shoves her hands out at the therapist, surprised by the contact, and already half full of misplaced rage and incapacitating fear.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she yells.

…

…

The woman sitting on the end of the bed closest to the door needs a hospital. Maura can tell this just by looking at her. She is tall and slim, with dark brown hair and sharp cheekbones. She's wearing denim jeans that are spattered with blood, rust brown now. She presses a dishtowel to her right cheek, and scowls at the floor, holding herself tightly, clearly in pain.

On the other bed against the wall are two figures, already tucked in. A girl, nine or ten, and a little boy, who is half that at most. Both of their eyes are closed, and neither of them stirs as she enters the room.

"Hi there," Maura says quietly, pulling the cart of supplies in after her. "My name is Maura. I came to see what we can do about your injuries."

"Doctor?"

The question is short, out of the woman's mouth like a punch.

Maura wheels the cart forward a little more.

"Yes," she says, stepping forward. "Susie, the woman you saw when you came in, she said you might need stitches."

She squats down in front of the woman, looking up into her face. When she had begun seeing patients here, the move had felt condescending and patronizing, as though she was treating her peers like children simply because of their misfortune.

As time went on, however, she'd realized that many of them were grateful for what they took as a show of armistice. A definite promise that she was a person they could trust.

She meets the woman's gaze now, hard as steel. "Can I look at your cheek?" she asks, raising her gloved hands slowly. "Please?"

The other woman does not immediately consent, and when it's clear that Maura won't make a move until she does so, she sighs and looks away, pulling the dishtowel down as she does.

The cut is jagged and ugly, and it starts to drip blood again almost as soon as the pressure is removed. Maura moves quickly, pressing gauze to the wound tightly with a practiced hand and reaching to the medical cart for the peroxide without looking.

The brunette does not flinch or pull away. She doesn't even shut her eyes against the pain she feels. And Maura knows she must be feeling pain. This cut hurt when it was inflicted, and it hurts now.

"That's quite a laceration," Maura says, making sure her tone does not label this as judgment or a concern. "I'm going to clean it, give you some stitches – I should think eight will get the job done – and then put a bandage over it for the night. Will you put your hand over this while I get things ready?"

"No anesthesia," the woman says, doing as she's told.

"It's local," Maura answers, pausing her preparations to look at her. "It won't render you unconscious or unable to-"

"No. Anesthesia," the woman says again, her voice dropping lower.

Maura studies her. She isn't backing down, and she isn't breaking eye contact. Her shoulders are broad and muscled, and though she is slim, Maura had felt the strength she possessed when she'd been near her. She does not seem the type who would let anyone harm her. She seems too strong, and proud, and unafraid of a challenge.

"Alright," she says, turning back to the cart and putting the cap on the needle. "No anesthesia. It will hurt though. The stitches will hurt despite the pain medication Susie gave you when you arrived."

The woman nods. She finally looks away. "Fine," she says.

She sits through the entire procedure like stone, eyes straight ahead. It occurs to Maura at one point that she bears it all like a penance. Like a burden she has been chosen for, and cannot refuse.

She doesn't flinch. Not once.

…

"You haven't asked me my name." It's the longest sentence she's put together since Maura entered. "No one has."

"Would you like to tell me?" she asks. It's standard at the clinic to only take as much information as the guests give. Maura's vision had been to create a place where anyone could get treatment, even if they weren't ready to talk.

"Jane," The woman says. "And it's really Jane, that's not like, the lamest alias in the world."

Maura chuckles, "It's nice to meet you, Jane, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

Jane's face hardens at once, and Maura wishes she could pull the words back. She clears her throat.

"I'm not sure if Susie gave you the formal welcome when you arrived, since you needed immediate care, but you and your children are welcome to stay here for up to a month, and then even after that we have special circumstance reviews that can-"

"We'll only be here until Monday," Jane says, and then she looks apologetic. "Sorry. I didn't mean to cut you off."

Maura waves this apology away, and for a moment there is an awkward silence.

"I have to be back in Boston for work on Tuesday, "Jane says after a moment. "We just... I just needed..." She trails off, thinking.

"A break," Maura supplies gently.

Jane's shoulders slump slightly.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "A break."

Maura glances at the children in the next bed. The older girl is awake, Maura sees her snap her eyes shut quickly when she looks, feigning sleep.

"That's a long way to come," she says without thinking.

"What?"

Maura looks at her. "From Boston. It's a long way to come, for medical care."

Jane sets her jaw. "And a break," she reminds the doctor. Her tone suggests that there is no more to say on the matter.

"Well," Maura begins gathering the supplies and setting them back on the cart. "You're all welcome, as I've said. If you find yourself missing something, a toothbrush, socks, etc., there is a storage room that should have anything you need. It's back through the waiting room on your left."

Jane nods. "Thanks," She says, and it is clear that the combination of pain killers and safety is finally setting in. Or perhaps her show of strength is catching up with her at last. She is exhausted. Her wounds are recent and numerous. She has to be completely dead on her feet.

Maura pushes the cart toward the door. "I'll let you rest. I will be back in the morning to check the cut on your face, if that's alright with you. Please let the nurse at the front desk know if there is anything she can do to make you more comfortable."

Jane simply nods. "Thanks," she says again, turning away.

Maura shuts the door softly, but doesn't leave right away. She wheels the cart a few feet down the hallway, and then leans against the wall. It is pointless for her to go home. It is almost 1am, and she wants to check on Jane no later than nine. She's not due in the hospital until the following week, and so after a deep breath, he wheels the cart back to the waiting room and parks it by the front desk. Susie is sitting there, and she looks up as Maura sighs.

"It's bad, right?" She asks, though she already knows the answer.

"This is her first time here?" Maura asks.

Susie nods. "She checked yes on the form next to that question, and I think that's true. She
didn't seem to know she could stay overnight. She just wanted some dinner for her kids and for someone to take a look at her face."

"Her children were unhurt physically, yes?"

"Yes, doctor. The little boy slept throughout getting settled, and the girl didn't say a word."

"Not surprising," Maura says softly "They've all clearly been through hell."

Susie makes an angry noise. "Monsters," she says.

Maura nods, but she is unable to muster the same amount of fury. At the moment, she is simply sad.

"I'm going to nap in one of the empty rooms, okay Susie? Wake me if there's anything out of the ordinary."

Susie nods, looking back down at her book. "Yes doctor."

…

…

When she arrives home, she is so angry that for several minutes, she just sits in the car and tries to breathe normally. She doesn't want to go into her house and – God Forbid – do any of the things her husband has accused her of.

Korsak's words and the words of the Psychiatrist are ringing in her ears.

"We just want what's best for you."

"Anybody in your position would be hard pressed to keep it under wraps all the time."

"Nothing has to go into your record, Detective. At this point we're just making sure everyone is safe."

Jane punches the steering wheel three times, as hard as she can, and when she gets out, she makes sure not to slam the door.

The front hall of her apartment smells like spaghetti sauce and garlic bread, and sure enough, when she rounds the corner, there they are.

Her family, huddled around the kitchen counter, preparing dinner.

"Mommy!" Riley says when he sees her. He jumps down off of the chair he was using to reach the counter and runs to hug her. He lets her lift him into her arms without a single trace of fear.

Kara waves at her, all smiles.

And Casey. Her husband.

Well, doesn't he just beam at her, as though he knows exactly what happened to her today?

She wants to kill him.

.

As soon as the children have fallen asleep, he comes to her. He finds her in the kitchen, drying dishes, and wraps his arms around her waist and he presses his face into the crook of her neck.

"I couldn't let you leave me," He whispers.

Jane tries to turn around, but he holds her fast. She does not try hard to free herself, lest she hurt him, and bring his awful tale to life.

"You could have tried not being a bastard," she hisses. "If you didn't want me to walk out."

His grip around her waist tightens. "Don't be mean, Jane," he says quietly. "Please don't be mean. We're a family. Families stay together. The mother, the father, the children. All under one roof. You know that. You know it's what's right."

Jane swallows bile. "And how many of those fathers hit the mother's that stay?" she asks furiously. "You fucking hit me, Casey."

"Jane," his voice is still low and calm against the back of her neck. "Jane," he says, like he could soothe her. "If I hit you it was to protect myself from you. It was to protect our kids from the random outbursts of anger and confusion that Mommy has. If I hit you, I was defending myself from a Jane Rizzoli that not many people get to see."

"I never touched you," she says, feeling cold dread start to leak down into the pit of her stomach.

Casey laughs. "How did your meeting go today, Jane?" he asks.

She doesn't answer, and he smiles against her skin. She wants to scream.

"I've known you for a very long time, Jane," he continues, kissing along her neck to her shoulder. "You think I don't understand you. You think we can't be happy together. But we can."

He presses her harder against the counter. "We can, can't we Jane?"

…

…

Both children are awake when the doctor knocks on the door the next morning. She can hear them speaking over each other, and then the stamp of their feet as they rush toward the room.

The little boy gets to the door first, and he pulls it open with one hand, his other wrapped tightly around a little box of frosted flakes.

He smiles warily at her, but doesn't move to let her inside.

"Hello," she says with a smile. "My name is Maura. I was here last night, but I think you were sleeping."

"Yeah," he says, and his voice is rough and raspy, like his mother's. "I was asleep."

Still he doesn't move, but stands looking up at her, blatantly appraising her. She does the only think she can think of, and looks right back. He is younger than she thought last night, five at the most, but long legged and stick skinny, like someone has stretched his baby fat into the beginnings of a child. He has sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes, and he's dressed in a pair of corduroy pants that have been rolled almost five times to make walking possible.

Maura is about to ask if she can come in, when a familiar voice calls from out of sight.

"Rye, let the doctor in."

The boy glances over his shoulder and then back at Maura. "You'rea doctor?" he sounds skeptical. "Why 'int you say?"

He backs up obediently, but doesn't take his eyes off of her, even when he lifts the cereal box to his mouth again.

"C'mere, tough guy," Jane calls from the bed, and at her beckoning, he turns and scrabbles up onto the bed next to his mother.

On the other bed, with her nose buried in a book, is Jane's daughter. She has light blonde hair that falls past her shoulders, but when she looks up, Maura sees the same dark eyes and sharp features of her mother. Next to the girl on the bed is an apple core and an empty mini Coco Crispies box.

"I see you found the breakfast room," Maura says cheerfully, moving closer to Jane's bed. "Did you all get enough."

"Mom said I could only have one cereal," the little boy complains. "Even though I saw another boy take three."

It is unclear whether he is sharing this in order to be allowed another cereal or in order to get the other boy in trouble.

Jane rolls her eyes. "This is Riley," she says, nudging her son gently in the back. "And that is Kara."

Kara glances up from her book again. "Nice to meet you," she says automatically.

"You too, Kara."

Riley leans back against his mother's chest. "Are there video games here?"

This earns a scoff from Jane. "Riley," she begins, but Maura laughs.

"Yes," she says. As a matter of fact there are. They are in the kids common room. It's upstairs, and there are signs leading the way."

"I can read!" Riley says, already squirming down from the bed.

"Woah," Jane says, moving to stand too. Her movements are stiff, her shoulders clearly sore. "You can't go by yourself," she says, hooking Riley around the waist.

Instead of pushing against her, however, Riley turns in his mother's arms and lets himself be lifted, clinging to her like a koala.

"Will you go with him Kara?" Jane asks over her shoulder.

Kara makes a noise that is identical to her mother's scoff three minutes earlier.

"Please, hon. And when the doctor's finished, I'll come and you can find the nearest tree and read in peace. I promise."

Kara rolls her eyes, but gets off the bed without further protest. She looks up at Maura as she passes.

"It hurts," she says quietly. "Even if she says it doesn't."

And then, she has taken Riley's hand, and the two of them have disappeared out the door.

Maura turns back to Jane and finds the other woman looking at her intently.

"They're beautiful," Maura says.

Jane's face hardens at this compliment. "They're my world," she says. And then she sits down on the edge of the bed, and turns the bandaged side of her face to Maura.

And Maura, taking the hint, steps up to her and begins to peel it back.

Just like the night before, Jane does not flinch once.