The Scent of Lavender and Fear Chapter 1

I don't own R and I.

A/N: Fiction is about fantasy. Fantasy is about escape. Fairy tales do exist, sometimes only in fantasyland. -Jennylyne

"Tell me Jane. What would you like to do to me?"

"I'd like to get my gun, and put it in your mouth and pull the trigger."

"Do you dream about me, Jane? Cuz I dream about you."

"I don't even think about you, but I'll tell you what. I'll visit you every damn day if you tell me who your friend is."

"You're right, Jane. I should play fair. My friend is out there. Enjoy him...because he'll enjoy you."

The darkness was at times too bright, the silence too loud and the cold air that surrounded Jane made her wonder why she sweat so. She wasn't hot, but she could feel the sweat as it made it's way down only one side of her face. It irritated her, but she didn't move to wipe it away. It was a feeling and she hung on to that feeling for it was all she had right then. Her hands ached, but they didn't hurt. Nothing hurt, not as long as she was still.

Jane hated that she could hear his voice, remember his words and smell his threats. She hated that he lived on in her head, always there. Always. The Surgeon. Hoyt. She thought she had heard him as they entered the house. She felt his presence, smelled the threat that was close. Jane knew he was dead. She knew this because she had killed him, but still she stumbled. Still she fought against a memory, an enemy, a ghost.

A rookie mistake, happens to them all at one time or another. Jane let her guard down, turned too soon, turned back too late. A costly mistake, without a doubt. Jane remembered the searing pain, then the immediate relief. She remembered the piercing scream, then the eerie silence. The bright, burning light that forced her to close her eyes, squeeze them tight as the darkness soon replaced everything in her scene. Get up, get up. Jane's voice was not her own as she pleaded with her body to respond to her desperate demands. Her instincts had failed her and now so would her body.

"Jane Rizzoli. Well, I'll be damned." Jane wanted to turn her head towards the familiar voice, but her body continued to refuse her. Instead she listened. Say something else. Who's there? "It's been quite some time since I've seen you."

Thomas O'Malley. Field Training Officer number three or four, Jane couldn't exactly remember. She wasn't the easiest recruit to train when she first graduated the academy. "Tom?"

"Rizzoli, what the hell happened?" Thomas moved so Jane could see him. He looked good, given his age and the fact that Jane helped him age so much faster than he maybe would have otherwise.

"I'm not sure. Can't seem to move." Jane wondered why her voice lacked her usual confident tone.

"Might have something to do with the bullet they removed just a few hours ago from the side of your head." Thomas was old when Jane was a rookie, now he was just Thomas to Jane. Not Sargent O'Malley, not sir, just Tom.

"I screwed up, I thought..."

"Yep. You thought. No time for thinking when you're in the field like that, Jane. We've been over that. Instinct. Instinct. Instinct. Trust your gut, no doubt you didn't do that."

"I always trust my gut. I'm much better than what happened. I thought he was back. I thought..." Jane stopped as Thomas shook his head from side to side. The disappointment written all over his face. Jane hated to see that she disappointed him in any way; she always hated that look he gave her.

"Why would you think he was back, Jane? What made you turn when you had your guy? Kid wasn't but twenty years old, but mean as all get out. Desperate too. He had every intention of firing at you and by the looks of things, did just that."

"I don't know. I felt him behind me, heard him." Jane's voice seemed loud to her now as she winced against the pain she could now feel.

"Head hurt, Jane?" Thomas crossed one leg over the other as he watched Jane try to place where the pain was coming from.

"No. No, I don't think so. Why can't I move?" Jane's voice now sounded familiar as her words were soaked in frustration.

"I'm going to go with the bullet again." Thomas always seemed like he had no patience for a young officer Rizzoli, but truth be told he was the only one that managed to get through to the eager rookie.

Jane stopped her efforts to move and with that the pain ceased as well. Much better. Jane quickly realized the beauty of pain management. She took a few minutes to study Thomas. The job had been hell on him until he finally retired. The war against crime was a winless war, yet still they fought it. Jane wondered how much of that war, Thomas continued to fight. His eyes were tired and they never smiled when he looked at you. Jane realized that when she first met him and now she remembered how his eyes gave him away. He had seen too much in his career and when Jane Rizzoli graduated the academy, his only job was to teach a brand new rookie how to not get dead. He had done his job and she was doing hers. Thomas O'Malley was proud of Jane Rizzoli then and even now despite the fact she had let her history possibly decide her future.

"Tell me, Jane. How did you feel when you thought Hoyt was out of prison? When you realized he had an apprentice? When you visited him only to hear him confirm that he had indeed trained somebody to do what he does." Thomas repositioned himself in his chair, he had every intention on staying awhile and Jane picked up on the body language easily.

"My hands immediately began to ache. Involuntary response, they just...do." Jane watched Thomas' face for a response but continued when there didn't seem to be one. "I had to see him in prison. Had to know for certain that he was still there. Had to face him to ask him. Had to give for him to let me have any confirmation that he had indeed trained an apprentice."

"Tell me about it." Thomas' voice was steady, almost flat, but Jane found it comforting in contrast to that of her memory.

"My partner, Barry Frost was angry at how Hoyt talked to me. Frost is a good man, great detective. Had problems stomaching a lot of what we see at first, but he got better with time. I played his game and he gave me the information I went for. Hoyt did. I had to catch his friend before he caught me. Very simple." Jane looked down at her hands as they stayed perfectly aligned to her sides. "His voice is like poison when he talks, it gets into every pour, every opening and burns."

Jane stopped talking as Thomas shook his head again. "You were scared."

"Damn right." Jane sighed when she realized how she reacted to nothing more than an obvious statement. "Frost and Frankie didn't want me staying alone and I remember being so frustrated. I told Frankie that if I were a guy, they wouldn't be so worried. His only comment being that I wasn't a guy."

"You're not a guy."

"Right. I'm a homicide detective." Jane realized how Thomas had set her up with a simple sentence. "That obviously made a rookie mistake."

"Obviously."

Jane lost sight of Thomas as the silence was deafening. "Tom? Are you still here?"

"I am."

"Where did you go? I couldn't see you." Jane still couldn't see him and the frustration she felt was mounting. What was going on? Why couldn't she move? Where the hell did Tom go?

"Tell me about Dr. Isles." Jane turned her head toward the voice. The movement again brought the agonizing pain that Jane was quickly learning resulted from any movement at all.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why she hasn't left from outside this door since you've been here." Jane finally located Tom, only now he was across the room.

"She's my best friend."

"Did you ever like the same guy as your best friend?"

"No."

"Did you ever have a best friend?"

"No."

"You'd tell me if you were a cyborg, right?"

"No, I don't think I would."

Jane sighed as she remembered how scared she was lying next to Maura, talking about Agent Dean and listening to Maura's pet turtle, tortoise, make it's way around the house. Maura had told Jane that she was incredibly brave, but the truth was she had never been so afraid in her life. Being afraid and being totally consumed by fear were two different things. Jane knew this; Jane lived this.

"Why isn't Maura in here? She should be in here." Jane wanted Maura to explain to her what was happening. Why she couldn't move. Why the pain was so bad if she tried. Why she was so cold.

"She's waiting, Jane. Like the rest of your family, just waiting for word." Thomas took his place back by Jane's bedside. He propped his feet up on her bed, lifting his arms so that his hands rested against the back of his head. "The bullet to the head, remember?"

Jane didn't answer, instead opting to close her eyes. The darkness felt good, right in a wrong kind of way. She had let Hoyt get to her even while he was dead. She let him get to her when he was alive as well; twice.

"Have to keep your eyes wide open, Jane. Got to be able to see the unseen, you know this." Thomas took a few minutes to study his once young protege while she chose to close her eyes and leave the world behind. The years hadn't been too harsh on her, not from his perspective at least. The compliment was unnecessary, probably wouldn't be well received anyway.

"You saying I made another mistake? I must have; I never thought it could be Hoyt in the back of that van." Jane once again found herself searching Thomas' expression for any kind of answer to a question she didn't have to ask.

"You were worried about your neighbor. Understandable." Thomas wouldn't give Jane anything and that alone was frustrating.

"Why are you here? Why are you in here and Maura out there?" Jane nearly whispered her last words as even the sound of her own voice was making her body scream in pain. It confused Jane how she was either in agony or felt nothing at all.

"Tell me about Charles Hoyt. Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance, Jane. Justifiable homicide." Thomas nudged Jane's legs with his foot, waiting for her to open her eyes before he continued. "You marked him, shot him in the hands. Death would've been a much more suitable punishment, don't you think?"

Jane was tired. She wanted nothing more than to sleep and the hum of Thomas' voice in her head was preventing her from doing that. "Go away. I'm so tired."

"Not yet, Rizzoli. Have to work through the pain, the exhaustion. You know how that is, you've been around long enough." Thomas placed his hand on Jane's face. He smiled when she opened her eyes to his touch. She was cold, but her eyes were still warm as they searched his.

"Am I going to die?" Jane's voice wavered as she spoke and if Thomas' had been anybody else, his heart may have broken a bit. He was tough in his day, mean maybe even. He had his work cut out for him though in Jane Rizzoli. Excellent recruit, just had to be polished. She challenged him but only at first. Jane Rizzoli impressed him with her intelligence. Her ability to recognize what she saw. She knew she would learn a thing or two from Thomas O'Malley if she could put up with his angry, cold demeanor. Tough skin, tough cop.

"You thought he would kill you, didn' t you. Finish what he started." Thomas' hardened his voice, forcing a weak, drained Jane to respond quickly.

"That was his intention. I wasn't going to let that happen." Jane's answer made Thomas smile, but only briefly. "I fought him and I won."

"Did you, Jane? Win?"

"I thought I did. Maybe not so sure now." Jane tried to disguise the defeat in her voice, but knew she was failing miserably. "I really wish Dr. Isles could come in now. I need to see her before..."

"Before what, Jane?" Thomas nudged Jane's legs again with his foot, once again getting her to open her eyes. "You fought before. Hell, you fought him twice. Why lie down now?"

Jane looked down at her lifeless body. She knew better than to try to move it. "It's too late."

Thomas nudged Jane again. "I can keep doing this for as long as it takes."

Jane opened her eyes to glance at Thomas. She felt exhausted, her body refused to move on her command and she still wasn't sure what had exactly happened. Maura wasn't allowed in, but an old training officer was. Nothing made sense to her right now. "Hoyt told me my problem was I let my heart rule my head."

Thomas pulled his legs down so that his feet rested comfortably on the floor. He once again placed his hand on Jane's cheek, getting the result he was looking for. "That's not your problem, Jane. Your problem right now is despite removing that bullet from your head, you're fighting for your life."

"I'm too tired to fight, Tom. I just don't care anymore."

"Got to care, Rizzoli. Got to fight." Thomas watched as Jane let her head roll from side to side despite the pain she was obviously experiencing. "Got to care to fight."

Jane Rizzoli cared; Thomas knew this. She cared maybe a bit too much. Thomas cared too, for Jane. He would fight for her until she could fight for herself. His job was to make sure she simply didn't get dead and she had done so good for so long.