IYDKMIGTHTKY
So, um...hey all! I don't normally post any fanfic outside my regular site, so...this should be interesting. But anyways, here goes. Leave a comment, but if you flame me, chances are you're going to get flamed back, lol ;)
*****************************************************************************************
Welcome to iydkmigthtky, AKA If You Don’t Kill Me, I’m Going To Have To Kill You. Named after one of my favorite Type O Negative songs (RIP Peter Steele), this title basically applies to the messed up relationship Rizzoli has with her nemesis Charles Hoyt, which should be familiar to anyone who’s read the books by Tess Gerritsen or seen the tv show (this story follows the tv show, specifically the episodes Pilot and I’m Your Boogie Man. AU for IYBM- Jane kills the perp at the end of the epi instead of her brother.) I don’t own the show, or the characters, so don’t sue me cause I have no money, and it will be updated...whenever it gets updated. Probably going to be “rated” NC-17/M for subject matter…
IYDKMIGTHTKY
Jane Rizzoli slept soundly in her bed as Maura checked on her, before making some tea. The events of the past week had been harrowing, with their small team finding out that Hoyt had a little acolyte who would have had no issues whatsoever killing Jane’s brother and Jane herself, all for Hoyt’s love and attention. The thought of who else Hoyt may have taught, who else could he have trained, rose unbidden to the forefront of Maura’s thoughts, and she frowned, shivering in the apartment, even though it was a balmy 75 degrees inside.
She had heard that Hoyt was dangerous, but that was made all the more clear to hear when she finally met him. He wouldn’t stop his obsession with her friend; that much Maura was sure about, and she wasn’t certain that she herself wouldn’t be used as bait in a future encounter with him or his friends.
Scared, Maura? A tiny voice teased, unbidden. You could leave Boston, be safe. Find a job anywhere, be making more money. Or, you could stay and be Jane bait. Your life’s work reduced to being nothing more than a body on a slab, a pawn in a deadly game of cat and mouse. No one would blame you for leaving-
I would blame me, she thought firmly, drowning out the voice of doubt. I would blame me, and if anything happened to the team or, god forbid, to Jane because I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Her eyes began to water from the sudden influx of emotion, and she sniffed, hurriedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before grabbing her Starbucks coffee mug which she frequently left here by mistake.
Trying to lure Jane over to the Dark Side of the Grind, she thought, remembering an argument they had previously over the taste differences between Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts, and she snickered to herself, pouring hot water into the mug. She was about to decide which tea to have when she heard a noise coming from Jane’s bedroom. Frowning, she opened up Jane’s door and walked inside quietly.
Her friend was in the throes of a nightmare- that much was obvious. Jane had the blankets that covered her in a death grip, the scars from Hoyt’s scalpels faintly visible in the moonlight. Her face was a mask of agony, tears sliding out from under tightly shut lids.
“Hello again Janie,” Hoyt whispered, smiling down at the terrified Detective, who found she seemed to be paralyzed.
How did he get in here? Oh my God how did he get in is Maura ok oh shit oh shit oh SHIT why can’t I MOVE
“Did you miss me? I know I certainly missed you, baby. Emily Stern, she tried to take your place, but you showed her, didn’t you…? You showed her that the only one good enough to stand by my side was you.” He smiled, patting a scalpel thoughtfully against the side of his face. “I have to thank you, Janie. You did me a favor…and you proved your love for me at the same time. Killed two birds with one stone- or should I say bullet?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Jane spat, feeling dread crawling around her body. “I can’t stand you, you sick son of a-“
“-Janie, language!” Hoyt laughed, leaning over her. “As I told your friend Maura, I want to feel your blood over my hands, and I will. It’s time for me to finish what I started…”
The scalpel plunged down-
Her eyes snapped open as she screamed in remembered pain, her scars seemingly on fire.
“Jane, it’s ok, it’s ok!” Maura ran to her friends side, touching her gently on the shoulder. “It was just a nightmare, he’s not really here!”
“It..God…” Jane attempted to compose herself, wiping her wet eyes with one hand. “It felt so real…”
“It wasn’t…he was never here in your apartment…you’re safe.” We’re safe, Maura thought, sighing. Jane looked up at her and nodded, relaxing briefly before glancing at her cell phone.
“Jesus…4:30 in the morning…” Jane groaned, sliding her legs over the side of her bed. Running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair, Jane shuddered slightly before glancing up at her friend. “Shit Maura, did I wake you…?”
“I was already up…are you ok?” Jane clenched her jaw tightly for a minute, as if biting back a retort. Sighing, she shook her head.
“No. No I’m not. But I don’t see how I have any choice in the matter-“ Both women were startled by the sound of Jane’s cell ringing shrilly in the darkness, and Jane groaned, answering it.
“Rizzoli.” She listened to the voice on the other end. “Okay. I’ll be there shortly.” Hanging up, she glanced up at Maura, her face grim. “We have a case.”
“Hop into the shower, I’ve already been.” Jane nodded as Maura went out into the living room to wait. This conversation wasn’t finished, not by a long shot…
No comments:
Post a Comment