Streetlights cast a dim orange glow outside her hospital room window, and she could hear the ever present sound of sirens in the night, as well as people walking outside in the hallway. Everyone who had visited her had gone home.
At least, she thought they had; she didn’t know for certain but she thought she had seen a Korsak - sized mass sleeping in one of the notoriously uncomfortable chairs outside her hospital room.
She wanted to laugh at the thought but GODDAMN didn’t that hurt- so she tried to focus on not laughing about it…which, unfortunately, was easy enough for her to do considering the day’s previous events.
As expected, her parents had stopped by to visit her, and as expected Jane was able to catch the vibe from her mom that she was ultimately to blame for her brother being shot, even though he had been shot while she was still in interrogation with the only witness left over from Marino’s dirty dealings (who was killed soon after).
Her father, as usual, sent his wife some sharp “knock it off” looks and tried to soften the blow of what Angela was saying, but God didn’t it hurt. Unable to speak, Jane just laid there as her mother ran up one side and down the other, and she didn’t lift a finger in her own defense.
Because truth be told, she DID feel responsible.
She shouldn’t and she knew that; but seeing her little brother laying on the floor of the stairwell, she could feel the guilt rising up. It had, after all, been her that had motioned for Frankie to join her, Marino and Maura back at Headquarters when everyone else was going to stay at the scene. She hadn’t pulled the trigger - no, it had been one of the drug dealers that Marino killed who had done that deed – but her mother made it sound and made her feel like she had shot him point blank in the chest. It had gotten her angry enough to give her mother a death glare and to turn away from her parents, the only real act of defiance she was able to muster in the hospital bed.
Needless to say they had left soon after, with her mother making it quite clear she didn’t want to see her for awhile after she had recovered enough to leave the hospital. Her fists beginning to clench, Jane worked on calming herself down enough to try and fall back asleep.
(Frankie)
Geez Moms can be such a pain. I just woke up a couple of hours ago and you would’ve thought I had died and been resurrected by Jesus Christ himself the way mom was acting. Treating me is if I was ten again, and Jane had made me cry uncle out in the front yard after stealing her favorite baseball glove. I can just imagine what fun I’ll have once I get out of here; moms planning on sprucing up my room in order to recover there. GREAT. Didn’t see Tommy but apparently he was here in the hospital.
I love her to death, but really she needs to realize that not everything bad that happens to me is Jane’s fault. I know I’m her favorite kid; it’s pretty much common knowledge within our family. But this blaming Jane thing has gotta stop. Wasn’t her fault I got shot. Shit, wasn’t my fault I got shot. Just wrong place at the wrong time. I’m gonna have to talk to mom about this later and it isn’t a conversation I’m looking forward to, knowwhatimsayin’?
Heh, BPD sprang for flowery bouquets. That’s pretty funny. Chances are that rat bastard Finnegan had a hand in this. Ah well, have to thank the boys later. Starting to get tired.
I wonder where Jane is, by the way? I haven’t seen her yet and noone’s said anything. Probably still burning the midnight oil at Headquaters, haha! Anyways, these drugs are pretty damn good…hmm. Naptime.
(Korsak)
She could have died today. She could have died and I would have lost the best partner I’ve ever had. If she’d died, Marino would have bled out on that pavement, I tell you that much. Rat bastard. I’ve asked IA how they could have missed him but they haven’t been exactly forthcoming with that information. Why am I not surprised? The Rat Squad never is.
After the crime scene was processed, people began working the case automatically; didn’t even have to ask them. The Doc took the shootings hard though; you’ve been a cop as long as I have you notice these things. She didn’t talk much about what had happened in the crime lab, but you could tell it wasn’t good.
Glancing into Jane’s hospital room I feel a lump rise in my throat. Even though the Hoyt thing was bad, her life hadn’t been in danger from the injuries. Mentally she was far more wounded then she was physically. But this…this was bad. Frost told me they had lost her en route, but that he’d shocked her back to life, thank frigging God for that. She was a fighter though, my Jane. To Hell with Marino, to Hell with Hoyt, and to Hell with anyone else that got in her way.
Marino. Just thinking about that miserable weasel burns my ass. I have no doubt in my mind he was going to use Jane to get himself as far from Headquarters as he could get, then kill her when she was of no further use. He wouldn’t have made it far, so she had to know time was of the essence. She did the only thing she could have done, though I have to admit it wasn’t too bright of Marino to bring Frankie’s name into it. Fucking bastard. I wonder if someone’s taken the time to read that miserable shit his rights yet? Meh, fuck it. Get to it tomorrow. When my butt isn’t numb from this chair.
(Angela)
Halfway across the city, two of my kids are in the hospital. One of them is here, in his old room, and my husband is sound asleep beside me, snoring.
I don’t have that luxury.
I know I was hard on Jane today. I know it. I was terrified though…that not only would I lose her but Frankie as well. Losing one kid to the job is bad enough, but two? Unthinkable. They both need to do something safer. Something where they don’t run the risk of getting killed during a traffic stop gone wrong, or a serial killer finishing up his work…
Oh yeah, I know all about that Hoyt thing. That guy is certifiably a whack-job if I’ve ever seen one, and trust me, after living through the deinstitutionalization of the mental institutions here in Mass, I’ve seen my fair share.
Why did she have to be a cop? Why did he?
Neither one of them has ever been able to answer the question. My husband, when I had asked him awhile back, had just shrugged and said “Some people are called to it.” Maybe. But some people would call that crazy, especially if you were risking your life day in and day out. Others would call it bravery.
My Janie and Frankie are the two bravest cops on the force. Tomorrow I gotta go apologize to Jane. Tell her I’m sorry.
Tomorrow…
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