Musings in the Key of Maura

I Should Have Stopped You

Inspiration for this one-shot: Bridge to Tomorrow (Season 5, Episode 13) County prosecutor Paul Wescourt, intent on committing suicide after being wrongfully accused of murdering his mistress, slips and falls from a bridge. Jane, convinced of his innocence, jumps in after him to try and save him.
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I'm standing here at the pier, anxiously awaiting the rescue boat's arrival. I'm so scared I'm ready to jump out of my skin. Even though I don't believe in God, I've been praying up a storm all night, hoping and making all sorts of promises to Him if he'd just bring Jane back to me. My Jane.

Please ... if you're up there and watching all this ... please, please, PLEASE just bring her back to me. Please, oh God ... please ...

I'd been mentally reciting that same sentence over and over again ever since that horrible moment last night when Jane stupidly jumped from the bridge after Paul, to try to rescue him.

I remembered looking on in complete horror, watching Jane's head bob up and down several times, before being swallowed up by the inky black waves.

Jane! Jane!! Jaaannneee!!!

I had screamed repeatedly until my voice had given out, my vocal chords wrought with anguished misuse. Everything after that was a daze, a cacophony of blaring sirens and flashing lights as people scurried past me, people I must have called - Korsak, Frankie, the coast guard - and who in turn had radioed others, all of them with one singular goal in mind: to save Detective Jane Rizzoli. And Paul of course.

As the boat pulls into view, I can just make out a figure swaddled in blankets, topped off with mussed up sandy colored hair. It's not her, and my heart takes a nosedive down to the sickening pit in my stomach.

It's not her.

Oh God! No, no, no, no, no!

My heart screams silently.

And then I see her.

Jane.

It's her.

My Jane. My Jane!

I see her emerge from the cabin right behind Paul, her frightened eyes wide and dazed, dark locks plastered around her cold face, blankets wrapped around her thin, shivering body. She looks worse for wear, but she's alive. She's alive.

She came back.

Thank you, God. Thank you for bringing my Jane back. To me.

I struggle to hold my tears back. I struggle to hold my whole self back from running straight to her and engulfing her in a fierce bear hug the likes of which she's never received from me before. The doctor in me knows to tread lightly, cognizant of injuries she may have sustained being in the water for so long. The best friend in me, however, is screaming, to hell with all that rationality.

Go! Hug her! Hug her hard, if only to prove to yourself that she's flesh-and-bone alive, that God, or whatever or whoever is up there, brought her back to you.

The doctor wins. For now.

I walk down the ramp, right behind Frankie, who's been here with me almost the entire night. He weaves his way to her, anxious to be able to throw his arms around his big sister. The big sister he thought he'd never see and hold again.

Jane spots him and immediately I see her whole beautiful, scared face change. Her eyes, that, a few seconds ago looked lost, light up immediately, as Frankie wraps her in a fierce brotherly embrace.

"Thank God Ma made us take all those swimming lessons when we were kids", I hear him mumble, as Jane nods her head. She runs a hand down his shirt, maybe just to prove to herself she wasn't dreaming.

He politely steps aside, and now I find myself standing in front of the raven haired detective I've come to care about so deeply. To love immeasurably.

Her eyes bore down to my soul, and for several seconds I don't hear anything except for our synchronized breathing, and it's just her and me on the pier. She's staring at me. I hold her gaze, our shallow breaths in perfect unison.

She's the first to break the spell.

"I've never been so happy to see you".

She reaches out for me, her slender arms clasping firmly behind my back. I return the gesture, the best friend in me finally winning this round as I desperately cling to her, not wanting to let go. Ever.

She's back, and she's safe. That's all that matters.

And then it happens. I feel an ... anger ... building inside of me, it's white hot tentacles taking a vicious hold of my insides, snaking unrepentantly through me, making my heart hurt so violently I wanted to hurl.

How could you be so reckless? How could you be so stupid jumping off the fucking bridge like that? What if the water temperature had been colder, or the current stronger? What if we didn't find you in time? What if you'd died? How could you do that to me? How? HOW???

Instinctively, I bite the inside of my mouth, partly out of nervousness but more so to stop the growing tidal wave of pure, unadulterated rage in me from exploding into the open. I pull away, my arms slumping to my sides, effectively cutting short our reunion.

My hazel eyes meet her confused chocolate brown ones, as I hear myself whisper...

"I'll meet you back at the office".

And with that dismissive utterance I turn around and head back the way I'd come, making my way up the ramp, stopping just long enough for a quiet plea to Sergeant Korsak.

"Please, take good care of her".

Because I sure as hell can't. Not right now anyway.

I can feel them staring at my hastily retreating form, wondering what was so important that I had to go back to BPD, pronto.

Thankfully Korsak, bless that man's gracious heart, thought better than to ask me any questions and soon I had rounded the corner and was out of sight. Locating my Toyota Prius, I got in, closed the door, and started sobbing immediately. Leaning my head against the wheel, I let go, the guttural sound of my agitated cries completely foreign to my ears.

I continue crying uncontrollably, all my pent up feelings of frustration, helplessness, and yes, rage, bubbling furiously to the surface. My mind is an endless jumble of searing questions, like a hamster running on its perpetual wheel, and accomplishing nothing.

Why didn't I try harder to stop you from jumping? Why didn't I try to help you as you tried to talk Paul off the ledge? What if you had died? What would we do without you?

What would I do without you?

The End