DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. Rizzoli & Isles and its characters are the property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT television network. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To Demeter94[at]yahoo.de
SERIES: Falling Dreams Series

In The Blood
By Demeter


Cindy was with Lindsay when she got the call at the precinct. She knew that it was bad by the way Lindsay paled almost instantly. "I understand," she said, her tone clipped, keeping the emotion at bay. "Thanks for calling, Maura."

A cold fear took hold of Cindy upon hearing the name of Dr. Isles. Obviously she wasn't just calling to ask how things were in San Francisco. Lindsay hung up and looked so lost for a moment that Cindy had the urge to hug her close right here in the middle of the station.

"Jane?" she simply asked.

When Lindsay turned to look at her, Cindy had a bad déjà-vu of the night Marty Boxer had died. Granted, he'd been shot, but the news of complications had hit them all unexpected. She couldn't hold back the words. "Oh my God."

Lindsay straightened her shoulders. "There was a hostage situation... she was shot. I need to talk to Tom."

"Of course," Cindy said, reaching out to touch her arm briefly. "I'll take care of everything else. Maura... did she say..."

Lindsay's eyes were bright, but she fought back the emotion. "She said we'd better hurry."

Cindy watched her walk up the stairs to Tom's office, battling fear and dread of her own. Then she picked up the phone to call the airport.

"I'm so sorry, Linz," Tom said sincerely. "You take the time you need."

"Thank you." She felt incredibly tired all of a sudden. "All my files on the Carlson case are—"

"Jacobi and Snow will have it covered. Don't you worry about anything."

"Okay. I need to go now."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but refrained himself from doing so. They both knew that there were no real reassurances in a situation like this, everything else was just words.

Angela Rizzoli had asked Maura to call Lindsay. Part of her was terrified to see Angela again, especially under these circumstances as they mercilessly exposed everything that had gone wrong at the last visit.

The truth was out there, just never spoken about from the moment Lindsay and Jane had first met, each other's mirror image, facts that had a simple explanation. Not so simple for the two of them, though.

At some point on that Mother's Day when Angela had showed them old boxes of pictures, hoping for a happy family reunion moment, Lindsay had had it. It would have been bad enough to think of Marty having an affair while his wife was pregnant, but it wasn't exactly something Lindsay wouldn't have put past him. It wasn't speaking ill of the dead, it was simply acknowledging that her father had had issues with responsibilities.

Getting confirmation though that Angela Rizzoli had been pregnant with twins, and of the decisions made later by the two couples, was by far worse. There was nothing romantic in this.

It was a house of cards built on lies that now came tumbling down.

"You are not my mother! I buried my mother twelve years ago!"

Jane was watching the exchange attentively, but she didn't say anything. Angela was devastated. "Lindsay, please understand. Marty and I were in love. We had to find a solution..."

"Did she know?"

Angela nodded. "She was fine with raising you, I swear! Of course you were the cutest—"

"Stop," Lindsay cut her off harshly. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to grasp the magnitude of those revelations. For most of her life, her memories of her mother consisted of Marian Boxer working around the clock trying to keep her daughters fed and clothed. Until she got sick. Lindsay had favored the illusion that she was doing a contribution, by taking care of Cat, by never complaining. At the end of the day though, when Marian returned from another double shift, she'd always be faced with evidence that her ex-husband had been a cheating bastard and she was stuck with a child that wasn't even her own. "Why did you never try to contact me then? What kind of mother are you?"

"Linz, come on," Jane said, clearly uncomfortable, but Lindsay didn't feel like sparing her, or anybody, now.

"I couldn't," Angela said desperately. "Marty would send me pictures when you were little, but then at some point, he often worked undercover and we... lost touch. I wanted to, but after he left Marian, I didn't hear of him until two years ago."

How could a person be this much in denial? "I was thirteen when he left. Really, thirteen years and you couldn't be bothered?"

"Please, don't hate me. We only wanted to do what was best for you."

"What was best for you, you mean."

"That's enough," Jane decided. "We'll all need time to think about this. Right? Lindsay?"

"I've had all the time I need."

Lindsay had fled the scene. The next evening, she and Cindy had met with Jane and her friend Maura for dinner, but the atmosphere was tense. She hadn't talked to Angela again.

She'd felt completely uprooted.

"Just don't you try making me feel better," she'd warned Cindy that night. "I know what I'm good at. And I know I suck at just any kind of relationship."

In the years that they'd been together, Cindy had learned that sometimes words wouldn't do in arguing with Lindsay, but she was stubborn, and she had other means after all. In the darkness of the hotel room, the safety of Cindy's embrace, Lindsay had cried.

She would have needed to be held right now, but instead she had to cramp her tall frame into the airplane seat, clinging to the hope that when they'd arrive in Boston, it wouldn't be too late.

It was too late though for Frankie Rizzoli, the brother she'd just briefly met. Sometimes, Lindsay hated this job.

Lindsay braced herself before she opened the door to the waiting room. She'd had nights like this, waiting for the verdict on a colleague while trying not to give in to fear. Running entirely on adrenaline and caffeine until your hands started to shake. This was different. This was worse.

The cop whose life the doctors were fighting for was her sister.

Twin sister, she thought, trying to ignore the looks most of the people in the room were giving her, like she was a ghost. Lindsay could guess who of them Korsak was, Jane's partner up until the Hoyt case, and the current one, Barry Frost. Both men gave her the slack-jawed stare that she and Jane had gotten regularly. Gabriel Dean was currently on an assignment outside the country and couldn't be reached.

No word yet.

Maura wordlessly hugged her and then greeted Cindy who had stayed at a respectful distance. Lindsay didn't want her at any distance. In fact, Cindy was the mere reason why she was still holding up.

Everybody jumped slightly when the door was opened. It was no doctor, but Angela who froze at the sight at her other daughter. Grief and fear had etched deeply into her features. Emotions that they shared, Lindsay realized, whatever else might be still standing between them. She wouldn't be able to get past the lies and the smokescreens of a lifetime easily, but she could push it aside for tonight.

Lindsay stepped forward and embraced her mother just a moment before an exhausted-looking doctor entered the room.

The End

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