Disclaimer: while I am extremely miffed at the torture we have all been subjected to by TNT (aka season 5 cliffhanger), I do not intend to steal any of the characters from Rizzoli and Isles, they are not mine, I am just borrowing them.

A/N: So... while still puzzling over Puzzle Pieces this little monster wrote itself. I didn't know what to expect from it and it is a slightly different writing style to my normal one but that's the way the muse works. It is designed to be a bit chaotic and read in one big breath so... Fingers crossed :)

Spoilers for episode 5x12

...

I recognise the look in her eyes just after they pull me out - for that one single moment when she doesn't have her attention fixed on the pale limp body they have pulled out after me, barking orders at the hands attached to the men doing the pulling ... where to lay her, how to handle her, put her right here, lay her flat, be careful, we don't know the extent of any injuries... Call an ambulance.. Jane... Jane... Come on Jane, Please be okay...

In that single moment she looks at me and I see it, a quick check to see if I am okay, still breathing, still in one piece and then those green eyes darken, giving way to burning anger and silent accusation.. she went in after you, you're the reason she's here, you're the reason we're pulling her out like this. You're responsible. Your fault.

And she turns away as tears fill them and I wonder if she timed it that way so I couldn't see but I did, and I know.

I hear the gasp as they roll the body over and her eyes are shut and her hair is covering her face and she is so pale... And trembling fingers press against her neck where her pulse should be and the other rests on her chest... No pulse.. No pulse and no breathing and I can't help thinking that this is the woman who only minutes before was on that ledge standing with me, risking herself, telling me to fight, to live, to not give up. But I look at her and the lips that uttered those words are turning blue and a part of me wishes she'd kept those words inside her so they would speak to her now..

And then her head is tilted back and the lighter-haired woman is breathing down into her lungs, her hands come together and they're over her sternum and she's pushing down, over and over again, calling her name, pleading with her to wake up, to open her eyes... Come on Jane, don't give up...

And I can tell by the assuredness in her actions that she's done this before, many times.. but not like this, because she's also offering to drink beer and eat pizza and watch all the die hard and rocky movies available, she's getting season passes to the red socks and promising not to miss a game, she's going to wear tracksuit pants to work for a week, if she just wakes up, breathes... And she does it again for her, showing her how - see how simple it is, just breathe, come on Jane, don't you dare give up on me...

But there is no answer, just like there were no answers for me until Jane was there on that ledge and asked the right questions.. And somewhere inside of me on that ledge something restarted and I knew it was my heart beating and it reminded me that I was alive, that I was living and that it was important - and this woman is saying the same thing to her now as she forces her heart to beat and breathes for her and I can feel the terror in her voice as she demands that ambulance one more time.

And then I can hear the sirens in the background, the piercing screech of hope... Her hope and my hope and the breath everyone is holding as they wait for Jane to breathe, as she presses down again and again, over and over and gives her own air to her lungs waiting, pleading, hoping..

And I hope they make it in time.

I hope for her.

She's desperate now - too long, too long she is saying and then she is begging and the tears fall in earnest now and her forehead drops onto the still chest as a sob escapes her lips.. Come on Jane! You're too stubborn for this... And she looks up and brushes the hair from her face so gently, calling to her.. calling her back to her, and I know the hope is fading.

"Don't give up."

I only barely hear the words leave my lips and I know I have no place saying them in fact I don't even remember thinking them and I wonder if maybe they are hers. She looks up at me sharply with that same look and I know she's blaming me all over again but that is more than okay because I will take it, I will take it all if she will wake up and come back to her.

She has only missed a few heartbeats, only a handful but she's back and she continues. Come on Jane, I'm not joking.. I see her tears falling on her pale face and I wonder if they might just be warm enough to wake her..

And the sirens get louder and I can hear the tyres against the gravel not far away, and I hope it's close enough. She tells her she is not letting her go, She tells her can't do this, she can't watch her die... And I can hear the terror and agony and I understand what it means and I watch her press down harder...

And suddenly there is a gasp and a gurgle and liquid spills from those blue lips and down that pale cheek onto the concrete and her eyes are wide open now and they're searching.. and the panic on the other woman's face instantly dissolves and she calls for her, loudly at first then again, pulling her out of that river all over again like the river had just been pulled out of her.. and then the dark eyes focus and I hear her speak for the first time..

Maura.

And the woman catches her own breath and shuts her eyes and repeats the name she had called in desperation so many times but more softly, like in a prayer, as her hands move to cradle the dark head and pull her from the cold concrete into her arms for long enough to know she is alive and her heartbeat is real and the breaths against her neck are not her own breaths any more but belong to her, then she lowers her down and rolls her onto her side, easing the water out of her lungs and holding her head gently in her hands.

And on her side now Jane is facing me, and I can hear the footsteps coming from behind and the rattle of a gurney and I know she is going to be okay.. And she opens her eyes and I know she is looking at me and I see a faint smile on those lips, that were only a few seconds ago so blue and without life. I blink away the memory and smile back and nod at her because I am thankful and I understand.

Then she looks up at the woman holding her so tenderly and smiles and she's telling her not to cry, but her shoulders are shaking and even with her back to me I can hear the sobs and she's telling her how stupid she is and did she have any idea what she was doing...how close she came to losing her and did she understand what that would have meant.. But her voice isn't angry it's desperate and frightened and relieved all at once and then there is a pale hand on her cheek and she leans into it, and I watch as she reaches up with her own hand and covers the other and turns her head to kiss it softly, and her eyes are closed but her lips are trembling and I can see the tears still sliding down her face.

I feel a blanket being pulled around me and two pairs of boots appear in my peripheral vision. She knows they are there too because she lets go of Jane's hand and tells her she's going to be okay then she looks up to them and explains what has happened, all of the detail they need to know and then more. And the gurney slides past and they lower it down and this time the hands are helping, not pulling her body onto the narrow trolley, and they wrap her in a blanket like mine and warm hands are rubbing Jane's arms through the material and fussing over the corners to make sure no more cold can get in... and she's matter-of-factly explaining she didn't through all that agony just to have her best friend die of hypothermia..

And the dark eyes slip closed behind a smile and they wheel the gurney towards where the ambulance is waiting and I watch the woman's shoulders slowly fall and a hand rise to her temple and I know what she is trying to do - and she turns to me and the eyes are not anger and accusation but sorrow and sympathy and she approaches me slowly and I know, when she puts her hand on my shoulder that she is thinking the same thing as me.

She squeezes my shoulder and makes room for the paramedics to return to me - but I know where she's going and it's where she will stay, and while I answer the list of questions and submit to the preliminary tests I can't help watching them in the light spilling out from the back of the ambulance... How she tilts her head and hesitantly touches the side of the gurney, and then that hand reaches out from under the blanket the same way it reached for mine on the ledge and she takes it without hesitation and I wonder if maybe Jane's pulling her off a ledge too.

And I close my eyes and allow the pain and loss to finally envelop me, because she still has her and I don't...

But at least now I can live.